The Rebirth of Mitsuko
by The Water Daemon
Summary: Awakening within a strange world and among strange people, can Mitsuko, a cyborg of sorts, fit within the fray of a post-apocalyptic Neopia?
1. Rebirth

Author's Note: Man, this is a huge fic. This is heavily Gunnm influenced, so if you see similarities, it's no coincidence. Enjoy, if you can stomach crappy fanfiction!  
  
  
  
One might describe the junkyard as a graveyard, especially if one happened to be a robot-but many people did not. Humans and organic Neopets alike cared not for their mechanical counterparts; they were like cars, really, to them: able to be disassembled and reassembled, traded in and scrapped in a heartbeat, without so much as considering what the robot wanted. For, after all, weren't they just creations of humans, able to be toyed with at will? They were nothing more than computer with physical shape, able to move about the world. So, in all rights, didn't this make them property? Slaves that shouldn't care of their position?  
  
The junkyard and its many attendants cared less for its residents than a cat cares for a mouse, its prey. It was painstakingly organized, each scrap metal put into a specific place-but each of these categories consisted of enormous junk heaps separated by merely chain-link fences, waiting for those who cared to sort through them and find gold among the filth. A large network of robotic arms loomed over the many piles of discarded trash, racing down their respective tracks and putting things into the best order possible, controlled by a large tower, radiating out signals for the arms to follow. The piles themselves were a chaos of noise and movement, some piles more active than others, cruelly dictated by the arms bringing in new scraps and taking out older ones to be melted down and recycled. The area surrounding it seemed to be designed to knock the spirit out of anyone that entered the place-endless dry-dirt desert as far as the eye could see, the only transport to the nearest town by various hover vehicles.  
  
Of course, most of the Neopia looked like this anyway, so most spirit of anything had already been wiped clean.  
  
The junkyard attendant, stationed in the control tower, was not used to visitors in the heat of the day-usually, people waited for the cool temperatures of the night and the early morning to come all the way to the deserted junkyard to find various robot parts for constructing a house- keeping robot, or perhaps even a crop robot, fit for picking whatever was left of the seasonal harvest, most of it gone from the terrible drought the land had been suffering for years. The middle of the day was the time for the orange, robotic Tuskaninny to sit back and enjoy a nice refilling of his gas tank, not having to worry about any burglars that would have to be brought to justice accordingly.  
  
Yet as he gazed lazily out the window, he could see something coming from the haze of the horizon, speeding towards the junkyard at a fast pace, assumedly a person on a speeder. Virtually blinking his eyes hard, he looked again, to confirm that it wasn't a mirage. No, as he looked again, he could see it was, as he had so reluctantly suspected, a speeder, racing towards the junkyard. He groaned internally, taking the gasoline dispenser from his side, stretching his arms grumpily and then taking the old- fashioned elevator down to the dusty ground, zooming out of the tower to meet the visitor, feeling irritable at being interrupted from his break.  
  
The speeder swerved, coming to a precise stop only inches from the Tuskaninny, kicking up a fair amount of dust and hover-engine exhaust into his face, forcing the Tuskaninny to sputter and wave the dust cloud away from his face. The speeder was of an obviously custom design, made from metal painted white, the screen to shield the driver's eyes from excess dirt and dust kicked up from the hover engine black and curved like a half- bubble over the seat. The rider was of a humanoid shape, a white helmet masking his identity. His body was extremely thin, though not quite sickly so, covered in a now dirt-covered lab coat, wearing black pants on his legs. The Tuskaninny wondered how he could bear the heat in the dark pants.  
  
"We're not open now-come back when it's cooler," growled the Tuskaninny, aggravated, a bit peeved that the person had not bothered to apologize about covering him in a cloud of dust.  
  
The human pulled off his helmet, a small popping sound able to be heard as he did so. His face was then visible as he cradled the helmet underneath his arm, shaking his jade-colored hair slightly to get it back into place, although he could really care less for its position. His complexion was astonishingly chalky for someone living in the parts they were currently in, but that was quickly explained with a glance at his pointed ears, indicating that he was of some kind of faerie descent, though not pure, for he lacked wings. As he looked down at the Tuskaninny robot, the robot felt an uneasiness churn in his stomach-the man's eyes were a piercing red color. Although he was clearly non-hostile, the Tuskaninny still found a shred of discomfort swell in his mechanical chest.  
  
"I'm not looking for something too complex-and I know just what I want, on sight. It shouldn't be too much of a hassle to find. And I can pay cash," said the half-faerie, placing the helmet onto the top of the speeder, a knowing grin spreading across his cool, white face.  
  
The Tuskaninny's demeanor shifted immediately, taking on the expression of an experienced salesperson, a cheesy grin spreading across his orange face. "Then follow me, my friend!" he cried, and indicated for the half-faerie to follow, guiding him into the gates of the junkyard.  
  
The Tuskaninny began to rattle off like a tin can, but the half- faerie only partially listened to the old garbage pail's spiels on the best machine parts available. He had no interest in the kind of equipment that the Tuskaninny described: he continued to carry on about maintenance robots, what parts were required to build them and what were the best parts that could be purchased at the junkyard. It was a companion-type that interested him, much like the Neopets that he had seen so many other humans possess as constant friends, by their side through thick and thin. Besides, he desired something to get his mind off of the current economic situation: nonexistent.  
  
As they moved along to the hard drive part of the junkyard, mechanical arms whirring about above their heads, the Tuskaninny's ramblings began to wane, turning to a comment every so often as the half- faerie looked at the many hard drives available for his money. "Would you happen to have any models with. . .artificial intelligence?" questioned the half-faerie, looking down at the Tuskaninny in mild interest.  
  
"Er, well. . .those models, as you probably know, are nominally forbidden. . .personal purposes. Most of the ones here are personality- less, although some of them cry out every so often.most sentience has been destroyed, though, and could not conceivably be returned to the vessel," stammered the Tuskaninny, swallowing, sounding nervous. If he had been sweat glands, he would've been perspiring a river behind himself as he rolled along the walkways, his wheels grinding against the rough ground. The Tuskaninny continued to speak about how all of their robotic parts here were perfect-in that sense, non-sentient. However, he had once again lost the attention of the half-faerie, whose eyes glittered as he looked through the fence.  
  
"This one doesn't look to be of your normal stock," he commented, pointing through one of the links in the fence. His index finger was directed towards a solitary Shoyru head in the bin of hard drives, attached to a small, black box by a thick group of wires. It was, of course, of a robotic origin, but the pale blue flesh covering it looked nominally organic-and from a crack in the framework of the head, slimy, wrinkled gray matter could be seen peeking through, integrated with wires from the brain, crackling with live electricity.  
  
The Tuskaninny's eyes became wide. "I don't know why that one is even out of our personal storage. . .it's not for sale, sir half-faerie."  
  
"I do have a name," the half-faerie commented, annoyed. "It's Krishna. Doctor as a prefix, if you prefer." He reached into one of the deep pockets of his lab coat, producing a leather wallet. "Name your price- I can pay anything you want up front." The Tuskaninny stared at the half- faerie Krishna, wondering if he had heard a word he had said besides 'sir half-faerie.'  
  
"No, sir-this unit is not for sale. It's not. . .authorized to be sold," lied the Tuskaninny robot, remembering his specific instructions from the rather unpleasant Grarrl that owned the junkyard. He would rather not end up as scrap metal among his friends in the very place he worked for.  
  
"This is exactly what I was looking for. I WILL buy it," insisted the half-faerie Krishna, his crimson eyes glaring down at the Tuskaninny. The Tuskaninny shrank back, feeling the intimidation that he did whenever he was confronted by his awful boss. There seemed to be something else trying to play a part in the Tuskaninny's persuasion, however-he could feel it in the air, making it thicker. Some kind of faerie magic, no doubt. The effect on him, however, was little, as he was made of machine-still, it made him woozy and increasingly irritable, now just desiring the half-faerie to leave.  
  
"Sir, I'm afraid I going to require you to leave if this is your only business here. Besides, shouldn't you be in your little safe haven, Faerieland?" mocked the Tuskaninny sarcastically, clutching to his head with a claw. "You wouldn't want to break a nail."  
  
Krishna's head jerked back, as if shocked and insulted at the Tuskaninny's sarcastic reply. For a fleeting moment, the Tuskaninny feared that he would blow him up with some crazy faerie magic, thus reducing him to everything surrounding him. Krishna's expression, however, calmed after a moment, nodding jerkily. "Sorry for intruding on your break, sir-though thank you for your help," he said softly, and turned around, beginning to guide himself out.  
  
The Tuskaninny stood where he had stopped, staring at the back of the half-faerie's lab coat in wonderment. It occurred to him that it seemed out of this half-faerie's personality to just give up like that; he seemed very determined, after all, when he had been bargaining. The Tuskaninny's mood darkened as he came to the revelation of what the half-faerie would most likely do-what so many others had done before: come back when the junkyard was the least protected, namely, during his next break, and attempt to steal the artifact.  
  
Even if this wasn't what would happen, the Tuskaninny wasn't about to take chances around the junkyard. Opening a panel on his chest, he pressed some buttons to produce a direct connection with the network of mechanical arms zooming around above him, a microphone extending from his chest for him to speak into. In a soft voice, he issued commands to the mechanical arms in the machine language they were to be ordered in.  
  
Immediately, all of the mechanical arms turned away from their various tasks, pausing for a moment. The clanking of many paths interlocking and changing rang through the air, the half-faerie Krishna looking up in alarm at the sudden sounds above him. Looking upwards, he could see the plethora of many robotic arms racing towards him across their tracks, not even halting to make way for others. They extended from their normal length to extraordinary ones, reaching out and snatching the half-faerie before he had a chance to react, grasping him tightly. He struggled against their grips, but they held fast, his weak limbs little match for machinery.  
  
The orange robotic Tuskaninny rolled casually towards his captor, a sadistic smile on his metal face. "Sorry, Mr. Krishna, but you know things these days-there's plenty of opportunities to transform good people into thieves. And I'm really not a robot into taking chances." The Tuskaninny spoke a series of clicks and squeaks into the microphone jutting out of its chest, and the mechanical arms began to tighten their grip, crushing Krishna's body beneath, the half-faerie crying out in pain.  
  
The unnecessary torture did not last long, however-for suddenly the arms seemed to reel back in terror, almost as if they had been struck by something that had injured them. Krishna was dropped to the ground with a suddenness, although he wasn't complaining; it beat being squashed by a massive group of arms. Looking up to see what had saved him, he at first caught a glimpse of pale blue skin-and then the sound of cold metal against metal rang through the air, and one of the arms fell from the ground, wires snapping and crackling from its severed end.  
  
In the dust stood a mismatched figure: its body was clearly that of a robotic Kougra. The head, however, contrasted completely-it was the head of the Shoyru robot he had seen earlier, clearly fused on roughly and incompletely, but still able to function the body. The Shoyru's face, a metal plate labeled "00" stationed in the middle of its forehead, the black box completely gone. Its hard, blue eyes stared briefly at Krishna on the ground, the two's eyes temporarily locked. For a moment, time stood still, a silent understanding reached-and then time returned to its normal pace in a quite drastic fashion.  
  
One of the arms plunged down at Krishna, obviously given new directions. Krishna just barely managed to roll out of the way in surprise, only getting slightly scratched. He got the dull end of the knife, however-the remainder of the arms rushed at the Shoyru/Kougra hybrid, which promptly sprung into the air, avoiding most of their grasps, many of them plunging deep into the ground, never to be used again. Others, however, pursued the airborne hybrid, which landed on top of the Tuskaninny robot, making him roll backwards and dent the robot's face. The Tuskaninny let out a cry of surprise, but the hybrid barely made any notice, springing away as the arms came at it, many of them slamming down on the Tuskaninny, driving him into the ground.  
  
The hybrid scaled the chain-link fences of the piles in mere seconds, running up to the tracks of the mechanical arms. The hybrid shot across them, the arms following after it, getting closer and closer to its tail. The hybrid sped up, but the mechanical arms came ever closer, even as the hybrid broke into a dead sprint, doing a balancing act at the same time on the thin track of the mechanical arms.  
  
Finally, one caught up with the hybrid, seizing it by the tail. The Shoyru face gave out a harsh cry, being tossed carelessly into a pile of scrap. Skidding to a halt, the hybrid struggled quickly to its feet, jumping onto one of the arms coming at it and crawling it to the top with a surprising amount of agility for a robot, again finding itself on top of the track of mechanical arms. It approached the center of the tracks, where they all ultimately intertwined, a large storing bay for inactive mechanical arms there. Instantly, those came alive as well, thrashing and writhing about to escape and capture their target.  
  
Mechanical muscles coiling, the hybrid gave a mighty leap over the sea of twisting and turning arms, all turning their direction towards it. It fell sort of sloppily onto one last inactive mechanical arm, a wire disconnecting from its head and plunging into the mechanisms of the mechanical arm. It came alive underneath the hybrid's control, the hybrid riding it as a cowboy did a horse, gripping to the wrist parts with the Kougra body's metal claws.  
  
The hand launched forward into the sea of its comrades, fighting against it at the hybrid's will. While the hands were preoccupied with grabbing the occupant on its back, the hand ripped them from their posts, throwing their useless bodies into random scrap piles. The hybrid itself jumped from its steed's back and attacked alongside it, ripping them from their sockets and turning them into what they had formerly picked up and distributed, reducing their ranks quickly.  
  
Not quickly enough, however. A few still remained-a few the hybrid had left unaccounted for, unfortunately. Coming from behind it, one smashed its comrades to mere functioning wires, while the other two dove for the hybrid, grabbing it by the torso. Giving a hideous shriek, the hybrid struggled, managing to get one paw free from their grasps, but little else. The arms swung it around violently, the hybrid struggling all the time. Finally, it managed to squeeze free just when it was about to be smashed against the wall, using the momentum to catapult itself onto the hangar of the mechanical arms once again, steadying itself on the black box it had landed so conveniently on. Taking out its claws once again, it dug them deep into the box, ripping it to metallic shreds as it fell backwards, losing its balance and falling from the large height to the dusty ground.  
  
For a moment, the mechanical arms seemed to hesitate, as if contemplating their next move. Then, with a suddenness, they fell limp where they were, utterly useless.  
  
Krishna scrambled to his feet, slightly bruised, and walked over to where the Tuskaninny was plowed into the ground. He seemed to be knocked unconscious, but still mostly in tact, if badly dented, one of his arms dangling by mere wires. Krishna kicked the Tuskaninny's head slightly, amused. "Sorry about troubling you-I'll be going now," he said softly, a slight smile gracing his light pink lips.  
  
Walking away from the Tuskaninny, he entered the labyrinth of walkways, remembering, for the most part, his way back to the entrance. He wasn't looking for the entrance, however-he wanted to find the Shoyru that had saved him from the fate the Tuskaninny had chosen for a thief.  
  
He soon found it, almost to his dismay-it lay on the ground, steam rising from its dented and battered body, the Kougra frame nominally useless now. However, the head was still in tact and functioning, judging by the way the eyes rolled up to look at him, a curious look flickering onto the pale blue face, its organic look appearing awkward on the robotic body.  
  
"Are you. . .?" began the Shoyru head, the voice a soft, feminine tone. Before it could finish its sentence, however, the eyes rolled backwards and the form fell still, eyelids closing.  
  
Krishna bent down to the war-tattered little robot with pity. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a few tools and expertly removed the head from the body. While the body would be of no use to him, the head was still functioning-it would be able to do without a body for the time it took him to get home, where then he could use a spare body from his personal collection for the Shoyru's use. Perhaps he even had a suitable Shoyru body for the pale blue robotic hard drive-perhaps she would be his pet.  
  
Picking up the head, he began to navigate his way out of the building, grateful to be able to depart from the graveyard of machines, hoping he would never have to return.  
  
The Shoyru's eyes opened, blinking. Her first thought was of the hole in the ceiling, letting through the shades of gray that consisted of the sky, dark with clouds-clouds that never rained. She blinked, confused. She knew there was something to be remembered, something inside the back of her mind that was sitting there, waiting to be brought up.but she could not put her finger on it. It occurred to her that she should have a name, a number, at least, but she could remember neither-nor could she remember getting here, or even previous occurrences. She could hardly remember what she looked like. She decided to refresh that memory.  
  
Turning her head downwards, she could see an expanse that must've been her body-made of metalwork, that of a typical robotic Shoyru. She couldn't remember that specifically, but it made sense, for she could recall her face being that of a Shoyru-more organic looking, of a blue color, with two distinctive markings on her cheek. Little else of her appearance seemed to be stored in her memory-and soon she gave up on the futile task of fishing for things that weren't there.  
  
The door to the room she was in opened, and in came a man-well, not a man, because he had pointed ears, much like a faerie, but he could not be a faerie, for he didn't have wings. He looked familiar, but she couldn't recall from where, exactly-only that he looked familiar. Dressed in a lab coat, he didn't look all that professional, probably due to the color of his hair and eyes, and the way he carried himself.  
  
"Regain consciousness?" he asked, approaching the bed.  
  
"Yes," she replied quietly. "Where am I?"  
  
"Safe from the junkyard."  
  
"Where?"  
  
The half-faerie gave her a strange look, lifting his eyebrow. "Do you remember me?"  
  
"Sort of. . .not really," she admitted, turning her face away, not really caring at the moment. "I'm tired."  
  
"Guess you must've lost some data from that beating you took. . .probably from the transfer to a new body, too," sighed the half-faerie, taking a seat next to her bed. "Do you at least remember having a name?"  
  
"A name," she repeated, looking back at him blankly. She shook her head slowly. "No."  
  
"A number?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Even a production model?"  
  
"No." The half-faerie sighed again heavily, rubbing his forehead.  
  
"Do you remember.anything?"  
  
"Just some bits and pieces.nothing to put together into a full picture," she answered, her voice not exceptionally emotional. A small smile came across the half-faerie's face.  
  
"Well, my name is Krishna, and I guess I'm you're owner now. So it's only appropriate that I name you," he stated, giving off a slight air of an official manner. Straightening his back, he looked down at her. "To be honest, I've never been very good at naming anything. . .my last three projects were called Krishna Project One, Two and Three. Is there anything in particular that you would want to be named?"  
  
The Shoyru thought for a minute, sinking back into the bed she lay on. She decided that it wasn't a very soft bed-in fact, it was metallic just like her, obviously not used for organic materials. She shifted herself slightly on the bed, looking hard at the half-faerie. She could remember distrust, for sure; she had never been an extremely trusting individual, from what she could gather. Yet there was something about his kind, gentle demeanor that cried out for her to trust, to put her faith in. Something so different from the faded memories in the back of her mind.  
  
She smiled a little at him, though it seemed unpracticed, her face unaccustomed to such movement, coming out warped. Still, she felt warm here, warmer, safer than she had ever been before. Her answer was softer than she remembered talking as, lighter, more carefree. Perhaps this would be a new beginning for her. A fresh start required a fresh name. And so she chose.  
  
"Mitsuko." 


	2. Departure

The butterfly sat unassumingly on the rock, a rare sight of beauty in the barren landscape. It unfolded its wings calmly, seeing no predators around, bathing its delicate, fragile wings in the slight glimpses of the morning sun, drying the dew off of its wings, if one could even call the water-sand mixture dew. The butterfly's body seemed to give a little sigh as it relaxed, finally secure from the dangers of the world.  
  
In a second, though, the butterfly was proven wrong-out of nowhere came a hulking form, a great shadow descending upon the helpless creature. In moments, it was a captive, being slightly squashed between two metallic hands, that of an android. The butterfly fluttered frantically within its metal prison, but could not find a way out. A single eye peeked in on the imprisoned butterfly, staring at it hard.  
  
"Just don't kill it, Mitsuko-it's wrong to kill something as innocent as a butterfly," came a familiar male voice. The one holding the butterfly hostage looked up from her prey to see Krishna watching her idly as he simultaneously tuned up the speeder, lying down on a board in wheels and frequently wheeling underneath the vehicle.  
  
Mitsuko scowled, opening up her hands and releasing the butterfly, allowing it to desperately fly away, knowing now that it wasn't safe. The small, foot-long Buzz messenger robot buzzed above her, watching her, a constant monitor. She had been obsessively bored the past few days. She seemed to have so much pent-up energy from the time in the junkyard ready to be released, yet not finding an opportunity to do so. Krishna seemed to prefer to lead a rather calm life, certainly not suited for the robotic Shoyru, who found herself growing progressively more antsy as the days grew long and stretched out, seeming to last into infinite.  
  
She had to give Krishna some kind of credit, though-even though she could remember little of her past, there was always a warm feeling around his place, resembling somewhat of a home. She could not recall ever having a home in the past, or someone that truly cared about her; perhaps she had, but couldn't remember them. And what good was someone she couldn't remember? Still, there retained the uncontrollable urge to remain active, to DO something-to fight. To destroy.  
  
After she had remained awake for a time, Krishna had gently explained to her the history of the world she was living in, after she had quite bluntly asked. There was something eerily wrong with the world, yet she was intricately accustomed with it-perhaps too much so.  
  
"What is this world?" she had asked, while staring up at the ceiling, up into the stormy sky.  
  
"This world? Well. . .it used to be the surface land of Neopia," Krishna had replied, leaning his elbow against the side table, resting his chin on his arm. Mitsuko remained silent for a moment, watching the clouds move. Slowly, they moved enough to reveal a patch of white clouds, floating up in the sky. Yet these were different-they seemed to be supporting extravagant buildings of enormous proportions. In moments, however, the illusion faded to nothing, leaving behind just clouds.  
  
"Is there always castles in the sky?" Mitsuko had asked.  
  
"Faerieland, you mean? No, not anymore. It fell from the sky long ago- there are still said to be illusions left of it in the air, however, by remnants of faerie magic."  
  
"Who lives there?"  
  
"The faeries. . .the perfect ones. The ones that weren't succumbed to the plagues and radiation, and thus, the rulers of all down on our surface world. Well, back then."  
  
"The plagues and radiation?"  
  
"Don't remember those either? Well, when I inspected you, you looked to be a model made after those events, anyway, so I guess it's understandable. They say that a villainous person named Frank Sloth decided to finally do away with Neopia, which he hated so much-and so, he sent down many weapons of destruction, destroying the surface world and many of its inhabitants. What you see now is all that's left. Only the faeries were safe in their little haven, Faerieland-yet they didn't dare allow any of the mutated and injured Neopets enter their precious domain. For one reason or another, though, Faerieland fell from grace and to the world-only to be corrupted, and thus abandoned by faeries. They congregate now in some unknown place-I'd rather not know of it personally." He shrugged. "It's best not to think about them-many have died trying to get their revenge. It's a pointless struggle."  
  
Krishna had made the outlook terribly bleak, but Mitsuko didn't mind- she wasn't one that was satisfied with being lied to in order to soften the truth. Even if it hurt, the truth was always better to hear.  
  
Krishna had also added that it was quite risky for her to travel into town. Sentient robots were disliked, for they were thought to be replacements for Neopets-if she was found to be such, somebody was likely to capture her and take her back to the junkyard for her to be turned into a pile of metal, or perhaps have her sentience taken away entirely. This didn't stop her from being drawn towards the town in the distance, bustling with activity. It certainly looked more interesting than here.  
  
Looking back over her shoulder idly at Krishna, she could only see his legs sticking out from underneath, moving sometimes when he grunted with effort, stamping against the ground. Seeing that he was clearly occupied for a while, she got up from her position in the dirt and dusted herself off. Moving towards him, her eyes scanned the speeder with interest. The small robotic Buzz flittered of one of the speeder's handles, settling down and deactivating itself. "Dr. Krishna," she began slowly, forming her words as accurately as possible, "what exactly did you get me from the scrapyard to be, anyway? A common Neopet?"  
  
"Sort of. . .I've never enjoyed cleaning up after the organic type. And the last one I had ran away," came Krishna's voice from underneath the speeder, sounding as if it were coming through a variety of metallic tubes.  
  
"You know, I can do chores for you," she replied, although she wrinkled her nose to herself at the thought. In her mind, she could never lucidly remember being of a servant type. "If you need a certain material, I can get it for you. I have to have some purpose other than sitting around, after all-it's what robots are for."  
  
"Are you?" replied Krishna, rolling out from underneath the speeder, giving her a questionable look. His normally pale face was streaked with grease and oil, giving him a rougher look than usual. "And what are you hoping to draw out of me? You can just say it, you know-round about ways kind of annoy me."  
  
"I'm bored," Mitsuko burst out, her point pretty blunt. "I want to go to town-I'll get something for you. I'll pretend that I'm just a normal task-doing robot. I just need to get somewhere."  
  
Krishna inspected her face for a moment, as if trying to verify whether she truly wanted to go to town or not. He himself hated going to town-mostly, though, because he was ridiculed for being only half-faerie, and having to stay down on the wasted planet of Neopia. It would help him quite a deal for her to go get some material instead of having to do it himself. Grabbing a wrench with a sigh, he slid back under the speeder. "I suppose. But be warned-you have to act completely like a house robot. That means no free-thinking, or acting like you can free-think."  
  
A smile crossed Mitsuko's face, a foreign thing again, seeming so strange, as Krishna listed off what he needed her to retrieve. As soon as she had the information locked away into her brain, she took to the air, flying towards the town with steady wing beats.  
  
It didn't take her as long as she thought it would to arrive at town, landing on the ground steadily. She changed her gait from a smooth one to a jerkier one, hoping that it would look as if she were under some outside control, only stealing a glance at those surrounding her every so often.  
  
The buildings in the area looked exceptionally primitive, only containing a few pieces of real support here and there, scraps from a time when there were large, magnificent buildings where the town now was located. Where many little high-tech shops with paved sidewalks had been were now small little clay-made adobes with drapes for doors, barely any clarified roads beside the one in the middle, bustling with activity. Loud screaming of haggling could be heard, as well as the whinings of infant Neopets. Strangely enough, there was not a human to be found-it was a community consisting of purely Neopets, mostly with strange deformities that couldn't quite be considered Mutants, yet at the same time were definitely abnormal.  
  
Mitsuko tried to keep her mind set on her destination, but found it hard to keep up to robotic standards. She couldn't say that she wanted to join into the bustle of those organic around her-she was set apart from them. Yet she did not want to be viewed as a common slave either. Still, she even less desired to be taken back to the junkyard that Krishna described.  
  
Steering herself in what looked to be some kind of store appropriate for getting parts for the speeder, she pushed back the curtain and entered the small little shop. It was lit by many candles and the light from an opened window. Numerous faces of shoppers turned towards her in interest as she entered. She kept her face as stony and emotionless as possible, which wasn't difficult, as expressing emotion didn't come exceptionally easily to her in the first place. Pulling up a mental list in her mind, she walked up to the Scorchio behind the counter, who occupied his idle time by flipping through the pages of a magazine, crinkled and torn.  
  
The Scorchio did not seem to notice her at first-although she stood quite visibly in front of him, albeit silent, he didn't seem to even acknowledge her existence. For a moment, she stood quietly in front of him, waiting for him to notice her. When it was obvious such an event was not going to happen, she gave a loud buzzing noise which managed to catch his attention, startling him and making him toss his magazine excitedly into the air, falling to the ground.  
  
"I have orders from my master to obtain engine parts for a Year 2 speeder," Mitsuko said stonily, looking the Scorchio in the eye. The Scorchio steadied his glasses on his face, peering down his nose to look at the Shoyru android. A confused look spread over his face.  
  
"I've never seen you in here before-you're certainly an odd looking model as well. What's your production number?"  
  
Mitsuko remained silent, and then repeated her request, hoping that the Scorchio would look over her lack of answering. He did seem to excuse her lack of answers, but presented another question to her, although it was much more answerable: "Who's your master?"  
  
"Doctor Krishna," Mitsuko answered, keeping her voice even, monotone. She could feel eyes boring into her metallic body, the warmth and stench of other Neopets crowding towards her flaring up in her synthetic senses, making her want to shudder. Normal robots, however, would not have the five senses, so she held back the gag reflex stirring within her.  
  
"You mean that half-faerie piece of dung?" snorted a Grarrl from behind her, lifting up the shoulder strap of his garment roughly. "Hear he's making some illegal stuff back at that 'lab' of his."  
  
"Yes, s'weird for a faerie, even a half-faerie, doing science-like things. Maybe this thing's his newest creation," came a voice from directly behind her. If Mitsuko had had hair, it would've risen at the new voice, which seemed to come from nowhere. Yet now she could feel the breath on the back of her neck, feeling the water droplets forming on her metallic outer layers.  
  
"Heh, it's got a nice outer shell though. . .my house-robot's needed a new outer shell fer months now, I think hers would suit just swell."  
  
"Now, good sirs and ma'ams, this robot belongs to Doctor Krishna. As. . .peculiar as he may be, we still must respect his property," the Scorchio commented over the rising of voices in his shop. His voice just barely pierced their comments, however, and Mitsuko felt herself become increasingly unsure.  
  
"Sir Scorchio, I must have the speeder engine parts. Doctor Krishna requires them," repeated Mitsuko, swallowing. She was thankful at that moment that she lacked an artificial perspiring gland, for her organic skin would've been soaked.  
  
"I've never seen a task OR a house robot with such realistic features. Knowin' Krishna, y'think he's fixed up a nice lil' sentient one here and ain't told nobody?" came a female voice, though having a distinctly masculine edge to the voice.  
  
"I ain't doubtin' it's a possibility. . .lookee, lookit its registration panel, s'like nothin' I've ever seen. . ."  
  
"Yeah! S'gotta be a custom-prolly a sentient!"  
  
"I've got its torso!"  
  
An overwhelming swell of voices escalated over Mitsuko's head, seemingly thousands of voices bargaining and haggling each one of her parts, as if she were a mere object to be taken apart and distributed. She could feel anger rising within her, and unknown programming being subconsciously activated in the back of her mind. She could feel her arms twitching, information from her brain flowing down to them, to her legs, to her wings and tail. She was at the ready, though didn't know quite why- besides the fact that their little regard for her thoughts and feelings made her significantly uncomfortable.  
  
"Forget this-I'm ain't bargainin' with you lowlifes!!"  
  
Without warning, a hand grasped Mitsuko by the arm, tugging with a great strength that nearly toppled her over. An automatic reaction surged through her body, her other arm suddenly sweeping forward and colliding with the Acara who had grabbed her's face, smashing him backwards. He practically flew threw the crowds to land against the other wall, crashing into merchandise and breaking quite a few glass bottles. A deadly pause was heard throughout the crowd, eyes slowly going from the Acara and back to Mitsuko.  
  
And then they were upon her.  
  
What happened next was a blur in Mitsuko's memory, but for the first time since she had been reactivated, she felt as if she were really in her element, submerged in the environment that she had been born into. With stunning accuracy, she took on the crowd with a fervor as they swarmed in on her, tons of faceless enemies to be bashed into smithereens. From all angles they came, and so, from all angles she attacked-with her arms, legs, tail, wings and head alike. She was a flurry of movement, kicking, jabbing, punching and slashing, leaping into the air and finding herself on top of another customer, the customer unconscious moments later. One by one they threw themselves at her-and one by one she picked them off, the mob no match for her superior strength. Soft, tender flesh could never stand a match to cold, cast-iron steel.  
  
Soon, there was nobody left to fight, to defend herself from attack. She stood in the middle of a battlefield of unconscious bodies, none dead, many groans and moans rising from the fallen customers. The Scorchio, who had remained behind the counter the whole time, observing the ordeal, stared at her wide-eyed, backing up against the wall. Her head snapped towards him, eyes burning, the internal, unknown program flowing through her body still in full force. Slowly, however, it began to wear off, and sentience returned, making her aware of the damage she had done, of the cowering, frightened Scorchio. It also made her quite aware of how spent her body felt, feeling as if she would fall apart at any time. Still, Krishna had sent her to get something.  
  
She took a weary step towards the Scorchio, trying as hard as she might to keep her balance. "May I have the parts I require now?" she asked quietly, not bothering to keep up the monotone act. It seemed quite obvious now that she was something much more than a house robot-it was useless to keep up an act. The Scorchio nodded shakily, fleeing to the back room and returning in moments with the small engine, handing it over with trembling hands. Mitsuko began to open her chest cavity to produce the proper amount of money, but the Scorchio shook his head furiously, plastering himself against the wall.  
  
"N-n-no. . .y-you c-c-can have it. . .j-just don't come back. . ."  
  
Mitsuko shrugged tiredly, opening her chest cavity and placing the engine inside. "Thank you, sir. . .and sorry about the mess," she said, giving the appropriate bow that Krishna had instructed her to perform. Exhausted, she took to the wing and flapped out of the store, happy enough to turn back towards the outskirts of town. She would be more than satisfied to rest for the remainder of the day, and refuel-now that she had seen just how nice the community could be towards questionable robots, she would find herself completely content to keep at peace within Krishna's residence.  
  
And yet, perhaps not. Within the back of her mind, there lingered an excitement at the discovery of her natural talent for such fighting skills. It was like an adrenaline rush-perhaps not too pleasant at first, but leaving her feel somewhat exhilarated afterwards. Something inside of her told her that this was her purpose, something deep inside.  
  
And now that she had found her purpose, there would be little to stop her from living to fulfill it.  
  
"Krishna?"  
  
Mitsuko opened the door to Krishna's house, peering around. He was not outside, fixing the speeder-in fact, the speeder was back in its storage place, shut down. Walking through the doors, she found herself in a vacant living room, noises coming from the basement of the house. Calling out her master's name, she continued to the stairs, walking down them and looking around the whole time, wondering why Krishna wasn't responding to her calls.  
  
As she came to the final step into the basement, her question was answered. In the large space of the basement were various tubes and flasks filled with various chemicals, but the crashing was coming from the back. Squinting her eyes, as the light was not as significant down in the basement, she shifted to night vision, the area around her turning to a greenish glow. With her night vision activated, she could see a humanoid form working busily in the back of the room, shifting through many different drawers and large cabinets, opening and shutting each one after rustling the contents inside.  
  
"Krishna?" she repeated once again, her voice uncharacteristically timid. The form finally responded, Krishna's red eyes glowing oddly in the night vision.  
  
"Mitsuko? Is that you?"  
  
"Who else would it be," replied Mitsuko, walking towards him with more confidence. "What are you doing? I have the part you required." With little hesitation, she opened her chest cavity and produced it, holding it out from Krishna. She neglected to mention the incident in the store involving conflict between other subsequent customers, but it seemed that it didn't matter whether she told him or not.  
  
"You had trouble in town, didn't you?" asked Krishna, his voice sounding grave. Mitsuko almost drew back in surprise, as if the half-faerie had read her mind.  
  
"Well. . .a bit."  
  
"You don't need to cover up the truth, Mitsuko-I already know about it. I had a few angry complaint calls just moments earlier. And I'm afraid it's likely they'll come to eliminate you altogether-take you back to the junkyard. We can't let that happen," said Krishna, not looking at Mitsuko, but still through the numerous cabinets and drawers. Finally he opened and looked into one and breathed a sigh of relief. "Mitsuko, will you help me get this out of the drawer?" he asked. Mitsuko nodded absentmindedly, and began helping Krishna cart out a large, robotic body, sans a head.  
  
"What does this mean for me?" asked Mitsuko, worry absent from her voice. Krishna bit his lip, momentarily forgetting about the weight of the body as he lugged it from the cabinet, recovering quickly as he nearly dropped it on his foot.  
  
"It means you'll have to leave."  
  
"Leave? Leave for where?"  
  
"Anywhere but here," answered Krishna with a long, drawn out grunt of effort, fading into a sigh. The two carried the body across the lab under Krishna's instruction to the next room in the underground level, more suited for welding of robotic parts. An eerie sense of premonition crept into Mitsuko's consciousness, but she ignored it, presenting another question to Krishna as the two set the body up onto a metal table suitable for operating and transferring robotic parts.  
  
"But how will I refill myself? I'm already exhausted as it is.this body isn't right for long-term use without availability to fuel."  
  
"That's why we got this body out, Mitsuko-this will be your new body."  
  
Mitsuko looked down at it blankly. It was certainly of a custom model, as it was of nothing she had ever seen before. It was shaped somewhat like a human and somewhat, conveniently, like a Shoyru at the same time-its body parts were more upright, resembling that of a human, with longer legs and arms, and even boasted a full set of ten fingers. However, there was certainly Shoyru undertones, for there was a tail protruding from the back, as well as a set of wings resembling those of a Shoyru's, fitted with acceleration boosters for hovering and flying, rather than wings to flap and soar on. A blank internal stats screen was on the stomach of the body, which would show off the amount of energy left within the body's energy storage tank.  
  
"It will function for at least two years without needing a single tune-up, an oil-change or even a refilling of a fuel tank. That's under normal activity, of course. I designed her myself, so if there would be any problems, I would know about them-and there are none that I can recall." Krishna took in a deep breath, wiping his sweating hands on his lab coat's pockets. Mitsuko noticed that Krishna's expression was slightly troubled, as if he had to make a decision that he would rather avoid. There was a tint of sadness in his face as well, almost a bit of regret.  
  
"What's the matter?" questioned Mitsuko, searching Krishna's face curiously, as if looking for a response in his outward expression. Krishna, however, quickly masked up the strange expression, forcing a smile onto his face.  
  
"Oh, nothing. . .just thinking," he said, rubbing his hands. He moved towards Mitsuko, putting his hands on her shoulders, assumedly to shut Mitsuko down in order to perform the operation without Mitsuko having to experience the odd sensation of having her head transferred to one body to another. Yet he did not do it immediately-he rested his hands on her shoulders for a long moment, his facial features blank, staring forward. Mitsuko could feel his fingers squeeze her shoulders, trembling slightly, as if afraid of letting her go, of shutting her off.  
  
"Aren't you going to. . .?" began Mitsuko, looking back at the vacant- looking Krishna, wondering what exactly he was acting so peculiarly about. Krishna seemed to jump at Mitsuko's words, and then nodded furiously, fumbling for the switch at the back of Mitsuko's neck.  
  
"O-oh, yes. . .just a sec. . ."  
  
Krishna's words, however, dissolved into nothingness as Mitsuko felt herself shutting down, allowing her consciousness to submit to the darkness of deactivation.  
  
She didn't like the new body much, (it was much too far off the ground to suit her tastes, and seemed awkward to walk in, as if she were on stilts) although she didn't have the heart to admit it to Krishna-he had seemed to be so proud of it as a creation, and to insult it would surely break his spirit even more. She could tell it in his eyes now-something about his departure was digging deep into his soul, making him quieter than usual, almost wistful, looking at the blood red sun, billowing clouds of dust sweeping over its surface, making it look unnaturally hazy.  
  
Yet as she looked out on the barren landscape, she could feel a similar emptiness inside, mirroring that of Krishna's. Ahead of her, she could see only a landscape of unknown proportions, stretching as far as the eye could see. It already made her feel desperately lonely, a strange feeling that welled inside of her mechanical stomach, already growing on her quickly. Looking back at the past few days, the homely life offered by Krishna's abode seemed much more preferable to a trek into the desert of enigmatic lengths, perhaps never ending. Would two years be enough?  
  
Contrasting, there was also the intimate sense of adventure, the sensation of being a rogue. It was a familiar feeling to it, although she could remember nothing in particular about journeying into the unknown, though in a hypocritical sense, it felt like familiar territory. Yet when she looked back at Krishna's face, she could not help but feel guilty about her intricate eagerness to travel into the wide expanse of desert. His expression seemed to stretch the skin across the bones of his face in an expression of both anxiety and loss, seeming to make his faerie-retained youth melt away, his face aging in instants.  
  
"You should probably be going-they like to strike at night. Mostly because it lets them carry torches in the traditional mob way, and plus it's a lot cooler then. And night's approaching," cautioned Krishna, though there was no seriousness in his statement. In fact, he seemed to struggle to get the words out of his mouth. Mitsuko nodded her head, and Krishna seemed almost injured by the movement, his arm convulsing slightly, Krishna trying to hide the moving limb from sight.  
  
"Thank you, Krishna, for all of your help-even if I can't remember some of it," said Mitsuko, bringing her lips into a smile. It still felt forced, but she was working on it. "I'll come back someday, when. . .sometime," she said, although her tone wasn't very reassuring. She didn't like the look on Krishna's face-she didn't want him to be unhappy, just because she was leaving. It made her feel rotten inside, as if she were falling apart. "Okay?"  
  
"Alright," responded Krishna, his voice cracking a little, choking a bit on his words. He feigned a smile as well, patting Krishna pleasantly as possible on the shoulder, like a sad father approving of a grown-up child finally parting from the family to go off to college. His glistening red eyes gave a final look over of Mitsuko's body, as if memorizing everything about the robotic Shoyru. "Good-bye."  
  
Mitsuko took to the air, igniting the boosters and shooting high up, launching forward into the air. Steadying herself, trying to keep balance in the air, as the sensation of flipping upside down in the air did not seem to be too appealing, she strained her neck to look back at Krishna. The half-faerie stood so alone against the dismal background of earth dried beyond rehydration, a solitary figure slowly becoming smaller and smaller as the distance between them increased rapidly, due to the acceleration of the boosters on the back of Mitsuko's wings.  
  
Now Mitsuko understood. She had been admittedly confused of what Krishna had been so sad about-she had only been with him a few days, after all, and the exchanges they had shared certainly hadn't been groundbreaking ones. Yet now she saw it all too clearly: the single man against a backdrop of loneliness, nothing to comfort him. For a few days, he had had a single soul to interact with, if artificial-a bit of sweetness in a life of bitter solitude, those who surrounded him plagued with the hatred for his half- faerie nature, as well as his eccentric methods in science. He was a man.a half-faerie alone in a world among thousands.  
  
And all she could do was feel sympathy for him. 


	3. Deceived

The brutal sun beat down into her metallic skin, feeling no mercy for her, not caring about whether she was uncomfortable or not. If she had been human or Neopet, she would at least be able to perspire or subsequently take off layers of clothes to relieve her agony of overheating, or perhaps even spray some water onto her skin. But being as she was only a machine, she could not possibly ask for that kind of relief, and was forced to suffer through every ultraviolet ray of light burning through the atmosphere, each stabbing her like many individual knives.  
  
It was not that it made her weaker-no, the pain just made her feel more alive (if a machine such as herself could even be called that), more conscious of her need to go forward, forward towards. . .something. It only made her uncomfortable, making her desire shelter, desire the cool rush of a breeze, desire the comfortable temperatures of Krishna's basement. It also did not help that the pointless journey of days had left her feeling extremely lonely, longing for some kind of companionship, thinking constantly about Krishna, as if she were a lost puppy and he was her mother, whom she tirelessly sought out.  
  
And so it was only natural that a great sense of relief rushed through Mitsuko's metallic body when a hulking object began to become visible in the distance.  
  
At the time, she could care less what its purpose was-she knew that there were other sentient beings there, as something had to operate the enormous machine-no computer she knew of could be programmed well enough to control such a monster. She still had plenty of booster fluid left, and floated into the air, speeding towards the giant beast of a machine, obviously a transporter of some type. As she got closer, the blob of metal began to take a solid shape: if it had been painted black (it was of a navy blue shade), it would've looked exactly like a beetle with one giant oval eye on its back, inflated to an impossible size.  
  
She hovered over it like a hummingbird inspecting a flower to see if it would produce satisfactory nectar. She suspected that the machine had spotted her as well, as it slowly groaned to a stop with the sound of gears grinding together. It was obviously of a recent design, as it was made of poor, burnt and rusted materials, just barely being held together by bolts the side of Mitsuko's eye. A door slowly opened on the side with the hissing of steam, a figure stepping out. Mitsuko landed with a bit of hesitation, her wits coming to her, making her on guard of the new figure.  
  
However, as she came closer to the ground, she could feel a bit of tension release from her shoulders-it was no organic Neopet that stood before her. No, it was a robotic one, just like her. Well, not exactly like her; it was obviously of a standard production, a Lupe, glaring up at her harshly. It carried a variety of weapons strapped onto its back, many looking quite threatening, which renewed Mitsuko's wariness. The Lupe's harsh expression softened, however, as it sighted her and confirmed that she was a robot, not an organic Shoyru, despite the appearance of her face.  
  
"Comrade!" he cried up to her, a smile spreading over his face, waving a paw for him to join her on the ground. "Please do say you are of a sentient nature!"  
  
"It depends upon what you classify as sentient," replied Mitsuko as she took to the ground. The Lupe looked over her with almost greedy eyes, his eyes illuminating even brighter as he looked at her closer.  
  
"You're certainly a new breed of robot!" he commented, his tone cheerful and welcoming. "When I first saw you, I thought you were one of those organic ones. But you're certainly one of us, though I have never seen a single model look like you before."  
  
"Us? There are more of you, then."  
  
"Yes! You don't think I alone stole a transport?"  
  
Mitsuko looked up at the towering beetle-like transport, and shook her head. Still, she thought if they were going to steal a transport, they could've at least stolen a pre-radiation one. "How many of there are you?" asked Mitsuko. Just from estimation, she could guess that there could be at least a fifty residents living comfortably inside of the transport, so long as they weren't any bigger than the Lupe.  
  
"There's about seventy-five or so at the present time. . .but our numbers are increasing rapidly."  
  
"What exactly is your purpose?"  
  
"We are the RARE-Robots Against Robotic Enslavement. We robots have suffered enough injustice against our so-called creators, who create us sentient and then treat us like common slaves, as if we have no more intelligence than a simple calculator." The Lupe continued on about their mission, Mitsuko's eyes wandering from the Lupe up to the transport. There were many individual windows that she had not seen before, and as she looked at them closely she could see many faces peeking through, all made of metal, just like her. They were a variety of species, from Chia to Kougra, but they all shared one characteristic: a hopeful look on their faces, a hopeful look for a new recruit to their little-supported cause.  
  
Mitsuko interrupted him, turning her attention back to the Lupe. "May I have the privilege of joining your cause?" she asked. The Lupe blinked hard, as if unable to believe that Mitsuko had agreed so quickly to his campaign, even before he had finished. He recovered quickly, however, stuttering and bumbling his way into a reply, nodding his head furiously. A jubilant cry came from the transport, the faces into the windows turning from hopeful smiles into genuine ones.  
  
Mitsuko did not smile. As much as she wanted to join into their happiness, as much as she knew she should've joined into their happiness, having found some amount of shelter and companionship in the middle of the desert by chance alone, she could find nothing in her mechanical heart that made her want to do so. A deep sense of apathy had begun to engulf her, and she feared it was already beginning to clutch at her consciousness tightly.  
  
When she reflected on this, it occurred to her that she would've joined anybody at that moment, be it an organization of bloodthirsty, communistic Lennies bent on controlling the world. The fact that she was collaborating and 'working towards a better cause' with other robots made little difference to her-and perhaps it was this intricate fact that began separating her from the world. Whether her arrival at the transport contributed to her slow disconnection to the world, as weak as the connection had been before, she would probably never know, but she could certainly point a finger towards it if she wanted someone to blame.  
  
And so began Mitsuko's descending path, a long, agonizing journey towards an inevitable ending.  
  
"Mitsuko?"  
  
The familiar gentle voice of the soft-spoken Kau android cut through Mitsuko's period of rest as her body lay tired against the wall. Mitsuko opened one eye, not bothering to open the other. She knew that the lease on the body she possessed would soon expire, and she was already showing signs of recession as the two-year mark approached. Of course, she worried little about this time, which its exact date was, admittedly, blurred in her memory. After all, there were plenty of places for a robot to refuel fully in the transport, even if most of the fuel was pirated and wasn't of the highest quality. They couldn't even guarantee that they had the right type of fuel required for her body, or enough-but she didn't enjoy minor things like those nagging in the back of her mind. They only caused her to lose precious recharging time.  
  
"Yes, Yadira?" replied Mitsuko, her voice exceedingly icy. It wasn't that she minded Yadira-it was that she was simply that way to everybody.  
  
"I'm. . .scared about tomorrow."  
  
It was quite obvious that Yadira was knew little of Mitsuko's personality, thinking that the robotic Shoyru would offer an ear to hear her ailments-after all, she had just been enlisted recently with the recruitment surge RARE had been receiving lately, flocks of sentient robots seeming to find their way to the rogue transport, as if by some unknown radar, like bees to honey. Mitsuko hadn't had a roommate for the past two years-she had specifically asked for a room alone at the start, isolating herself after having been so lonely in a strange hypocritical fashion. Yet now, with the overflow of new recruits, there was no choice but to double up, some robots even having to share with two other roommates or more, Mitsuko, thankfully, not one of them.  
  
"Am I supposed to say some comforting, false words here? I'm not familiar with contact like that of a human," replied Mitsuko coldly, getting up from the ground and moving over to the only piece of furniture in the room: a desk with a mirror in front of it. Why she required a mirror was beyond her, but Yadira seemed to enjoy it well enough.  
  
Yadira seemed taken aback by Mitsuko's harsh words, retreating a bit into the hallway. Clearing her throat, she spoke again. "It's just. . .I've never been in battle before, and I've heard that you've seen your share of it. . .I was just wondering. . .is it scary?"  
  
The word scary seemed so terribly childish in the situation that Mitsuko felt a strange bubbling within the back of her throat-laughter, she believed they called it, as she had heard it many times before from a loud- mouthed Tuskaninny named Tristus who seemed to constantly laugh over her own follies, not to mention other's. "You want to know if battle is scary?" snorted Mitsuko, a small, mocking smile appearing on her face. "Exactly when was your production model mass produced?"  
  
Yadira frowned darkly, her innocence fading as she stepped more confidently into the room. "Only six-months ago. I was supposed to be of a house-cleaning model, but some of my circuits got reversed so I ended up sentient. Is there something wrong with being mass produced, just because you're a custom job?"  
  
Mitsuko registered the anger in Yadira's voice, but hardly reacted to it. She could care less who got mad at her-feelings of others were of little concern to her. She fiddled momentarily with some switches on her body, and then returned to her corner of the room, resting her head against the wall. "I don't care whether you were produced by a mechanic who didn't know a screw from a bolt, really. You want to know about battle? There's plenty of knowledge of that sort stored in here, but only of the past few years. Perhaps there was a time before that, but I cannot remember." Why she was admitting this to Yadira was beyond her-she had never even told of her complete amnesia and lack of knowledge of her production model number to the head of RARE, having made up one when asked for it in registration.  
  
"Really?" Yadira's voice had softened once more, and the Kau walked into the room, shutting the door behind her. With a clanking noise, she sat down hard onto the ground, staring at Mitsuko in fascination. "So you don't even know your creator?"  
  
"No. Krishna is about as close to a 'creator' as you can get.but he's totally unrelated to my creation. But it's not the issue. You asked about battle, so I'll inform you on the subject." Mitsuko considered for a moment how to put it into words that Yadira would understand, being so newly created and obviously quite naïve-when she found that it was completely pointless to soften her point, not to mention completely out of character, she told it like she remembered.  
  
"In some ways, it is a joyous occasion. . .there is nothing that charges the senses, artificial if they are, than the chance of being blown to bits by your enemy. There is nothing more exhilarating to be plunged into heat of battle, nothing but you and complex programming flowing throughout limbs harder than any flesh, fighting any opponent that is faceless for the time being, nothing but someone to achieve victory over, to pummel into the ground until they submit to your overwhelming dominance. It reminds you that you are living, or at least in a sense, your reflexes sharpened, your senses heightened, everything around you a massive blur of action and movement, never seeming to end.  
  
"If battle was merely that, perhaps it would be tolerable-maybe even something to look forward to. Yet, unfortunately, it does end, and the false. 'adrenaline rush,' as organic creatures have, fades away, your opponent defeated. You should feel a sense of victory, a sense of being a hero.but the fact is, you don't. You look down at your opponents, see their terrified faces, their bruises, feel your own dents and battle scars. You feel wasted and torn, and horrible inside for what you've done-yet you can't escape from it. You did it to yourself, in the heat of the moment; and wish as you might to take back the damage you have done, you cannot.  
  
"RARE has seen its share of battles in the last two years.approximately.and thus so have I. It always goes like that.and this battle will be no different. We're going into a town, again, to supposedly liberate the robots within the town. In reality, there will be no more than about.three actually sentient ones, so in all senses, we could've just taken them out without a bloody battle. But no. We will engage in battle against innocent civilians and warriors alike-in the heat of it all, nobody looks different. And so we'll ultimately destroy a town for the sake of two or three robotic lives. We've done it before. And it will not change," stated Mitsuko flatly, her eyes dull.  
  
"But.they haven't been telling us that's what we're doing lately. They told me that I, along with a team of other robots, was supposed to find a certain person within the city.we're supposed to destroy him. The head Lupe said it was critical to our task," said Yadira, blinking, not seeming to follow Mitsuko too well.  
  
"To intentionally destroy someone? Human?"  
  
"Well.we were given a picture.he doesn't look all that human to me. But I've never really seen a human, to be honest." Yadira pulled out a picture from a compartment place in her side, handing it to Mitsuko. Her eyes scanned the picture, but she shrugged and shook her head.  
  
"I've never seen him before," she admitted with a shrug, although in a strange way the picture did look eerily familiar. "But whatever you're assigned to, I suppose you should do."  
  
"What are you supposed to do?"  
  
"What I always do," answered Mitsuko, closing her eyes. "Destroy all." An uncomfortable silence fell between Yadira and Mitsuko, Mitsuko nominally uncaring about the tension in the air, Yadira feeling it deep within her, shifting her weight to her other side of her hooves. Finally, Yadira cleared her throat, faking a smile onto her face.  
  
"Well.it's.um, do you want to go to the cafeteria with me?" asked Yadira, her eyes hopeful. Mitsuko opened one eye.  
  
"Social interaction doesn't interest me," she fibbed, managing to keep up a good charade on that part. Despite her efforts to keep herself away from others, she seemed to be constantly drawn towards large groups-it took all of her effort possible to separate herself from the crowds, to keep to her lonesome. It was easier that way-others, as she had heard, could hurt you.  
  
"Awww, c'mon. We're almost to the next town-if you get broken and then put back into enslavement, you don't want to sit there knowing your last few moments of free-functioning just sitting in your designated dormitory, do you?" asked Yadira, a small but true smile coming onto her face. Mitsuko gave her a long, hard look, at the robotic Kau, who tried to keep up her smile despite Mitsuko's glares. Yet much to Yadira's surprise, Mitsuko stood up, giving a sharp nod, heading towards Yadira and putting her hand on her shoulder roughly.  
  
"Alright. But just this once."  
  
The cafeteria, in most senses, wasn't really a place for congregating to eat-being the transport consisted of entirely robots, it would be completely pointless for them to need a place to eat. (Although some custom models did require the consumption of food, as they used it instead of gasoline or other types of fossil fuels, but such models were unconventional, for food was a shortage compared to the availability of various fossil fuels.) It was, instead, a place used for robots to sit idly and relax, recharging and socializing with others. Mitsuko rarely found herself in the place, although she knew of its existence-though she did secretly crave social interaction, such a large, crowded place did not appeal to her tastes.  
  
Yadira seemed to already know the place well, however, even though she had just recently arrived. She made a bee-line for a single table with a few robots that Mitsuko managed to recognize-one was the obnoxious Tuskaninny robot Tristus, looking of a janitorial model, Psyche, a robotic Blumaroo, Tacitus, a moody Lupe robot, and the final, Kummer, a robotic Kiko whose hard drive was obviously not all there-for he was known to constantly rub his hands and look around the room suspiciously, as if something were constantly pursuing the tormented robot.  
  
".no way that you're going to even dent the side of a house," smirked Tacitus, talking directly to Tristus. Even if Mitsuko didn't get out too much, she knew well enough that Tacitus and Tristus were more or less connected by the hip, and thus presented a problem: the two despised each other more than any thing else in the world. The only thing they had ever agreed on was that they couldn't stand humans-and that wasn't much to agree on.  
  
"You wish, Tacky! You'll probably go down under the rubble."  
  
"Not a chance, insolent junk-type! You're not even made for fighting!"  
  
"It's not about how I'm made, it's about what's up here!"  
  
"Yeah-and what's up there is just as junky as how you were made."  
  
"That's IT, Tacky! I'll be sweepin' up somethin' tonight, alright- YOUR remains!"  
  
"Bring it on, junk-type!"  
  
The squabbling between the two commenced, the others at the small table seeming accustomed to their bickering, continuing on with normal conversations as Tacitus and Tristus went at it on the other side of the table, their struggles disrupting some of the items on the table, mostly assorted laser guns. Yadira took a seat, inviting Mitsuko to do the same, seemingly oblivious to Tacitus and Tristus' little argument.  
  
"Are they always like that?" asked Mitsuko, more to herself than anyone else.  
  
"Yeah. It's best just to ignore their love spats," snorted Psyche, twirling a piece of her artificial hair lazily, taking a long sip of the black gasoline within a cup, refueling herself in an almost organic way. "So you're that Mitsuko Shoyru, eh? Got a weird body unit.not to mention hard drive covering. Y'could almost pass for organic, if not for that thing on your forehead, and the body," commented Psyche, looking at Mitsuko mildly.  
  
"The message.the message." whimpered Kummer, his eyes twitching back and forth, focusing on Mitsuko briefly, a small smile on his face. "You have the message, don't you?"  
  
"The message," repeated Mitsuko flatly, glaring at the Kiko. Psyche came to his defense immediately, patting the Kiko on the head.  
  
"It's best just to ignore him.what he says is mostly pointless. He used to be the program Neopets Version 2.but he got shoved away in the corner after Sloth abandoned his project. When he reactivated, some Neopets weren't very happy with his friend-snaring strategy. Shut 'im down, now most of his memory's zapped," explained Psyche, stroking the Kiko's head sympathetically. "We found 'im in the remains of the Virtupet Space Station and transferred the programming from the monitor to a body. Unfortunately, most of his sanity's been lost in his deactivation."  
  
"Yeah, couldn't even help us locate Sloth. Useless piece of crap- can't even find its maker," shouted Tristus over her quarrel with Tacitus.  
  
"I know another piece of useless crap," snickered Tacitus into his paw, glancing sideways at Tristus. The robotic Tuskaninny seemed to inflate in rage.  
  
"SHUT UP!"  
  
"The message.the message." moaned Kummer, shaking, staring at Mitsuko relentlessly. Mitsuko turned her attention away from the disturbed robot, feeling his eyes staring into her back even as she didn't look at him.  
  
"Anyway-who created you? You're obviously a custom job," asked Psyche, apparently interested. Mitsuko felt an uncomfortable sensation creep up her spine as the question was asked-she had little desire to answer it, or answer any questions at the moment. She kept quiet, hoping that the question would pass over like threatening clouds that looked like rain.  
  
Thankfully, she was not required to answer it, as the transport suddenly jerked to a stop, all movement in the cafeteria halting, a bit of confusion going through the air, as they were not expected to reach their destination until the next day. The loudspeaker crackled to life with the familiar voice of the robotic Lupe, the head of the operation. "Attention, comrades! We have arrived early at our destination-Sakhmet City! Please report to your designated areas and prepare yourself for dispersal, as well as battle. We will free our brothers from unwilling slavery!"  
  
A positive, roaring reply came from those in the cafeteria, and moving once again commenced, traffic now furiously channeling towards the door. Immediately, Mitsuko joined the crowds, able to push her way through, leaving Yadira behind. It was probable she needed to get to her post more than anyone there, besides perhaps those that were stationed in the front line with her. It hadn't surprised her that she had been shoved to the front of the line-those that were the strongest fighters were usually in the front line, because they would be able to last the longest at the head of the battle. Behind them were usually useless newbies who mostly hid behind the experienced ones. And Mitsuko, unlike the others, was not scrambling to get weapons-no, the body that Krishna had granted her was a weapon enough.  
  
Getting to the launching pad, she found herself surrounded by many familiar robots, ones that she had battled with before. She had never gotten particularly close with any of them, and found it better that way- then, if one of them got injured or destroyed, she wouldn't have the obligation to mourn over them, or feel a deep heaviness in her heart. She didn't say hello to a single one of them as she squeezed into their ranks, onto the release platform-and likewise, none of them said hello to her.  
  
Just as soon as she had stepped foot on the crammed platform, it jerked to life, descending downwards rapidly. In mere seconds, it came to a stiff halt, the other side of the elevator now open, letting natural light stream in. The robots dispersed from the crowded elevator and quickly got into formation, knowing it instinctively, as they had done it so many times before. They walked forward in formation, the robot in the front, a Jetsam, beginning to call off their orders into the air, as well as start a 'motivational' chant among the company, all contributing their voices automatically. Mitsuko, however, declined from singing-it was unnecessary excess in the beginning of a battle.  
  
Before them loomed the great city of Sakhmet, the remains of its extravagant castle reaching into the sky, like broken clay fingers. It was much like the area that Mitsuko had originally been deactivated in, filled with dust-but no, it was not dust, but sand, catching into her exposed body parts, making it difficult to move. It certainly didn't help that her body's 'expiration date' was approaching. She grunted against it and kept going, advancing forward with the rest of her company.  
  
But no-there was something wrong about the city through the sand, billowing clouds of an oncoming sandstorm beginning to pick up. Something stirred within Mitsuko that made her hesitate at the advance, making her suspicious of the city that they had so quickly arrived upon. Holograms, or any technology, was not sharp enough at that time to create the illusion of an entire city awaiting before the transport-but perhaps something else was, of a more mystical sort.  
  
"No," whispered Mitsuko, the revelation coming to her like a brick to the face. Ahead of them was no city at all. "It's not Sakhmet.it's." The word came to her slowly, like a flower's gradual bloom. It confused her at first, though-what business did they have creating such a mirage in the middle of the desert? ".faeries."  
  
As soon as the words had left her mouth, the city of Sakhmet disappeared before the robot's eyes, leaving the majority of the company of robots dazed and bamboozled, a city vanishing before their eyes. In its place floated at least a fleet of light faeries, among other sorts, holding staffs of magic before their perfect bodies, seeming drastically out of place in the beaten and fallen world. Above them all floated one that looked different from their conformist ranks. With long, purple hair, a golden tiara and elegant silk dress, the color matching her hair, it was obvious that she was a faerie of importance. She looked vaguely familiar, from a past life, but Mitsuko could not put a name to a face. However, most of the robots were courteous enough to shout out her name, as well as a few choice words added as suffixes or prefixes.  
  
"Fyora!"  
  
The faerie Fyora did not look triumphant, or cocky-she looked tired, but spoke to her fellow faeries in an even tone, giving them orders. For beings that were not supposed to suffer the effects of aging, her complexion made her look terribly elderly. "My sisters, our orders are from Tahora herself-we must destroy this unfortunate company of robots. Make it quick, sisters; all deserve painless deactivation."  
  
And within moments, the faeries were upon them, sweeping down on the fleet of robots, many now behind Mitsuko's company, like so many birds of prey, their talons great magical staffs, able to diminish a robot to scrap metal in mere seconds. Their numbers seemed to be halved in seconds, the faeries making quick work, able to send out multiple destruction spells at a time. Mitsuko watched them whiz above her like angels of death. One of their flaming asteroids found its way towards the Shoyru. Instinctively, she jumped out of the way just before it slammed into the ground where she had been standing, leaving a black scar in the ground.  
  
She could feel the programming working, charging up in her mind, flowing through her body. And she accepted it, as always, letting it take control of her body, allowing an unseen entity access to her body for just a while, sacrificing control for unbridled strength and ability.  
  
And once again, Mitsuko found herself right at home-a strange, foreign home, among savages and beasts, but it suited her.  
  
She was the predator, and they were the prey. That was all she needed to know. 


	4. Found

"Tristus?"  
  
The two competitors glared at each other, both sets of eyes burning with hatred for the other's, one pair a bright, vibrant green, and the other a dark gray, falsely organic-looking. They were both amply armed, the Earth faerie with a staff laced in ivy, the robotic Shoyru Mitsuko armed with the body Krishna had equipped her with so long ago. They were the only two left of their ranks, the other faeries having fled when they harbored so much as a scratch, vanishing into thin air with a puff of appropriately colored smoke. The robots, however, suffered a less-appealing fate-as they were unable to teleport from place to place, they were forced to stay and fight. And almost all of them had perished from this unfortunate disability, a scant few escaping to the transport, which had long ago begun retreating into the distance, leaving so many robots behind to the mercy of the faeries.  
  
"Tristus, can you hear me?"  
  
The Earth faerie tried her move first, shouting a few words in an unknown language, pointing the end of her staff towards Mitsuko. Mitsuko easily evaded the attack, launching herself at the faerie, knocking her to the ground, her delicate wings getting crushed to the ground, Mitsuko's heavy body on top of her. The Earth faerie gave a little shriek of horror, and then disappeared from underneath Mitsuko, leaving the robotic Shoyru to fall to the ground among the scrap metal of her former comrades.  
  
Mitsuko struggled to her feet, seeing no more faeries that might try and strike her down. She had suffered her share of dents and injuries, but judging by the looks of the surrounding area, she was the only robot still in commission, activated and running, save for Tacitus, the relentless Lupe pushing his nose among the scraps of robots, searching, a worried look on his face. All the others were groaning on the ground, many not deactivated, but in pieces. It would take thousands of outside sources to put back together all of their parts to whole robots, strewn into places. It was almost a makeshift junkyard in its own right, in a strange way, in the middle of a barren desert.  
  
"Tristus, don't be stupid. I know you can hear me."  
  
As she looked down, she could see that her foot was atop the screen of a robotic Kiko. Looking closer, she could see that it was the deactivated Kiko robot that had been Kummer. She took her foot off of the broken screen. A single word flashed momentarily onto the facial screen. "Message." She blinked, wondering if she were imagining things. As soon as she had blinked, the word was gone.  
  
Mitsuko turned her attention to Tacitus. The Lupe robot was lacking one of his forelegs, leaving only exposed wires, snapping and crackling with electricity. Many voices rose for Tacitus to help them, but he ignored them, stepping over them, trying to be as polite as possible in the chaos. He kept his nose to the ground, sniffing, his eyes growing more anxious by the moment, his tail twitching nervously, probably with a misdirected flow of energy within his body.  
  
"Stupid! Where are you!?" he howled in anguish, his body shaking from frustration and despair, not to mention the weariness he must've been feeling after the battle. Despite being among thousands of fallen comrades, many of them still half-functioning, the Lupe looked desperately alone, tail tucking itself between his legs, his metal ears drooping to the side. His behind flopped onto a patch of sandy ground amidst the robot parts, the robotic Lupe hanging his head after hours of search. Gasoline dripped from his eyes, hissing as it hit the hot sand, tears in their own right. "Stupid. . .junk-type. . ."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
A new voice was added into the equation, startling Mitsuko. She whipped around, the programming surging back into her false muscles, standing on guard. Although the voice couldn't have belonged to any kind of faerie they battled against, as it was distinctly masculine, she was still wary of the residents of the area-she hadn't been given time to properly check out her surroundings, as her real battle had just finished, and the memories of townspeople from Krishna's town were not pleasant ones.  
  
Standing on the far end of the scrap metal field was a Shoyru, having to be at least in his teens, perhaps older. He was of a Desert Color, but he did not wear the golden crown-just the gold-and-blue striped shawl to cover his head from the heat of the day, though the heat wasn't as unbearable as the dirt desert Mitsuko had suffered through. He looked amiable, a curious smile on his face, but Mitsuko knew all too well that looks could be deceiving, and didn't cease her ready stance. He spoke again, seeing that he got her attention. "Don't be afraid-I'm not going to hurt you."  
  
Mitsuko didn't trust the words, but did loosen her muscles, as the fake adrenaline was giving her body cramps. The Desert Shoyru began approaching her, carefully stepping through the scrap metal, holding out his hand welcomingly. "What happened here? Are you the only survivor?"  
  
She didn't answer, but examined him with her eyes, suspicious. Was he allied with the faeries?  
  
"Not very talkative, eh?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face as he got closer to her. Mitsuko took a step backwards. There might very well have been hidden weapons up the Desert Shoyru's shawl. "It's okay-I'm here to help you. M'names Philokrates, but you can just call me Phil. You've got some bad injuries, but they look curable-I can get you to a doctor that can fix up robots and Neopets alike." He spoke to her like a human would speak to a frightened Kougra, snarling in a corner, as if trying to soothe her nerves. It only served to stoke her fears, as she could remember that tone, somewhere in her memory, used before, calming her down-but having dire consequences.  
  
She backed up more, but found herself tripping over a deactivated robot, stumbling backwards and falling into the heap of her comrades. Their moans floated into her ears, arms reaching up to grab her into their ranks. Her head flicked around nervously, wondering whether it was better to trust her deranged, former comrades or the new, organic Shoyru named Philokrates.  
  
Unfortunately, the decision was not to be made by her-she could feel the expiration of her body coming on at the most inconvenient time, her body's movements slowly fading to nothing, rendering her paralyzed. Not even her head could function much-and she even found her consciousness beginning to drift away, the area around her beginning to fade. Krishna had said nothing about deactivation when the body had used up its time-but now it was happening, and there was nothing she could do but accept it.  
  
The woman stood, petrified, unable to believe that she had been found out. Her crimson eyes grew round and large as she was surrounded by the crowd of dark faces, the distance between her and them greatly diminishing by the moments. She tried to back up, but found herself against a wall. She turned her desperate face to Mitsuko, shouting silent words, words in a different tongue, yet ones that she could still understand.  
  
"Go!"  
  
But she couldn't move. What had happened to her body?  
  
The sound of hushed voices was what woke up Mitsuko, able to see the blackish-red behinds of her eyelids. Her senses kicked in slowly, like a computer gradually booting up. The tingling sense of being recharged flowed through her limbs, and she opened her eyes, looking down at the body that Krishna had granted her. Instead of being battered and filled with sand as it had been when she last remembered it, it looked fully new, polished and dents worked out of it, the health bars on her chest displaying that she was at full statistics. She surely felt like it-resting was no longer an option. She sat up on the table that she had been laid out on, jumping down from it.  
  
It appeared that she was in some sort of laboratory, chemicals making bubbling noises around her. It was not this that had awakened her, she knew, and she sought out the source of voices in the cold, metal room. There wasn't much light in it either, besides the eerie glowing of the volatile chemicals, so she activated her night vision, navigating through the room with relative ease, careful not to knock down any of the potentially hazardous chemicals, all labeled with white lettering.  
  
The voices came from outside of the room, the door opened a crack, allowing the voices inside. The first definitely belonged to the Desert Shoyru who she had last seen, calling himself Philokrates, but the second was one that she had not heard before, though sounding familiar in its own right-thanks to her forgotten memories, it seemed that she ran into plenty of those voices. In an odd way, however, the voice reminded her of Krishna's, drawing her closer to the door, pressing her ear next to the crack, staying absolutely silent.  
  
Perhaps too silent, because the door suddenly swung open, knocking her squarely in the face. Mitsuko drew back in surprise, stumbling backwards, but making sure not to run into any of the tables, just barely managing such a feat. Phil was the first one that she registered in her mind, rushing at her and catching her by the arm, making her stable once again. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry-I didn't know you were there!" he exclaimed, an expression of concern on his face, his grip tight on her hand. "Are you okay? Are you sure nothing's broken?" he asked, getting into her face, his nervous eyes flickering across her face with anxiety.  
  
"It'll take more than a swinging door to knock this robot down she survived Fyora's troops," came the second voice again. Mitsuko tried to get Phil out of her face in order to see the person who possessed the voice-but as she laid eyes on him, it was obvious that person was not the appropriate term. He was seated in a wheelchair, using his arms to function the wheels, which was strange considering he could've easily had an electric one. (Operations to fix the nerves or any other disabling injuries had long since ceased, due to the lack of equipment for such extensive surgery.) If he could've been able to stand, he would've been of a normal human male height, perhaps taller, and he wore a tattered lab coat, similar to the one that Krishna had constantly worn. What was most striking, however, was that he was the spitting image of the person that the late Yadira had shown to Mitsuko of the person she was to track down: the green skin, the red eyes and deranged hair, it was all there. (Except for, perhaps, the fact that he wore glasses and looked much more kind than the pictured person.)  
  
"See? I told you I'd get a respectable doctor," said Phil with a smile as Mitsuko gaped at the man in the wheelchair.  
  
"I would advise moving aside, Philokrates-I must have a look at her conscious," said the man, wheeling himself forward. Phil stepped aside without missing a beat. Mitsuko stood, unable to move, staring down at the man like she had seen a ghost. "Don't give me that look-sure, I'm not all that attractive, but I did sacrifice a good deal of my oil quotient to restore your body," he said, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm not going to hurt you."  
  
"You're.you're." began Mitsuko, but couldn't find a name to put to his face. It occurred to her that Yadira had never really told her what his name was.  
  
"Trying to help you," he finished for her flatly. "Now stop shaking, or else this screw driver will end up in your eye, whether it be accidentally or intentionally," commented the man dryly, reaching up to her face and looking at it closely, squinting his eyes, moving down her body, fixing a screw every so often. "Tell me, where did you manage to get this body from? Its production date doesn't match with the production date of your hard drive."  
  
"A half-faerie named Doctor Krishna. . ." The words stumbled off of her tongue before she even thought to censor them or lie. She was surprised at herself-it was unlike her to do something like that.  
  
"Not surprising. Trust someone self-taught to make something so incredibly frustrating to recharge," said the man with a small smile, shaking his head, not looking Mitsuko in the eye. "I'm Dr. Sloth, by the way-yes, the one and only, before you say anything else. You're from one of those Neopian Central subdivisions, and you shouldn't trust much of what they say. Been too influenced by the faeries. People make mistakes in their lives-I just happened to make a lot more than the average Joe."  
  
"How do you know Doctor Krishna?" asked Mitsuko, confused. She had remembered Krishna telling her that someone named Frank Sloth was villainous, and the cause for the world being so desolate and barren. This man, however, didn't look hostile-in fact, he looked quite vulnerable without his legs in commission.  
  
Dr. Sloth looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow, pausing in his fixing of her body. He finally shrugged and continued his work, pushing up his glasses with a nudge by his shoulder. "Scientist/scientist thing. . .there's not many of us anymore, I've gotta get supplies from somewhere. Not usually Krishna, I must admit-we don't have quite the. . .strongest relationship," replied Dr. Sloth sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He patted Mitsuko's chest suddenly, as if approving. "There we go. All better."  
  
"Where am I?" asked Mitsuko, her mind still unable to accept what had just happened, so trying to move onto different subjects.  
  
"The Lost Desert, in Sakhmet City. Trust me, you were pretty heavy to drag all the way to Sakhmet," said Phil, grinning. "But it's okay, because now you're talking. I thought you were a mute one before."  
  
"Do you know where you originally came from? You're not a Neopian Central model in the slightest-and you have no production number. I've seen one like you before, but you have a lot less information than I would expect if you were actually that particular robot," commented Dr. Sloth, sitting back in his wheelchair. Mitsuko shook her head slowly.  
  
"No. . .I can only remember waking up in Doctor Krishna's. I suppose I was created before then, because he said he found me in a junkyard. . .but beyond that, I have no idea whom my creator is."  
  
"That's odd," said Dr. Sloth, twisting his face into a confused expression. "It's not like a robot to lose just some of their memory. . .usually the majority of their personality and sentience goes with it. Oh well." He shrugged and wheeled his chair around, beginning to exit the room. "I'm going to fix something up for dinner. . .Philokrates, you can stay for the night if you'd like, but I'm not cleaning up after you ever again," Dr. Sloth called as his voice faded into the distance.  
  
"So, what's your name?" asked Phil, a smile seeming to be forever engraved onto his face.  
  
"It's Mitsuko," she answered cautiously, not fully trusting the Shoyru yet.  
  
"Mitsuko? That's a pretty name," he said. "Y'know, the doc's right, you're pretty unusual for a robot. Are you some kind of warrior type, or maybe a custom companion one?"  
  
"I said, I don't know. . .my memory's mostly gone."  
  
"Hmmm. . .that's too bad. Oh well, at least that means you aren't constrained to one thing, right? It means you're almost like a real Neopet!" said Phil, his eyes sparkling. "That means you can't be ordered around and stuff. . .well, maybe people will think they can because you do kind of look like a robot on the bottom. But the point is, you're not enslaved to a single task. You're free to do what you please, aren't you?"  
  
"I. . .guess. . ."  
  
"Well, then, you want to see around the town? There's plenty of things to see, especially since the RBT is coming to Sakhmet pretty soon. . .well, I guess that's not too fortunate for you," said Phil, seeming to consider his words, rubbing his chin. His eyes seemed glazed for a moment as he thought things over within his head, and then refocused on Mitsuko, presenting a question. "Well. . .let's see. . .can you fly?"  
  
"Yes. . .I can hover, too, if necessary."  
  
"Good. Then we won't have to take the streets. I swear, some people these days. . .in any case, it probably wouldn't be too great of an idea to roam the streets of Sakhmet now without you being labeled as participating in the RBT."  
  
"RBT?"  
  
"The Robotic Battle Tournament. It's a source of entertainment, a bright light in the endless black tunnel of our existence, I guess, to some- a kind of gladiator game among robots, held by the faeries, and Neopets sponsor a robot. It's only called a tournament, because the sponsor of the last robot standing wins some cash sum that's nominally pointless, as it'll probably go into just repairing the poor piece of scrap metal. They sometimes say they'll grant the robot one wish, or some dung like that to encourage sentient ones to enter-but it never happens," Phil wrinkled his nose in disgust, obviously disapproving of the RBT. "It's barbaric-what Neopets will do just for entertainment is truly degrading to our species as a whole."  
  
It dawned on Mitsuko that that must've been the reason the faeries had been blocking RARE's path-perhaps they wanted to prevent RARE from entering Sakhmet and liberating all of their potential candidates for gladiators in the RBT. A swelling of anger began to rise into her chest. They had obliterated so many robots.for what? For some petty competition that they held? Just so they could have a bit of fun?  
  
"But there's no reason to bring about the negativity of that situation," said Phil, shaking his head. "C'mon, the doc will have dinner ready in an hour or so-in that time, I'll show you around." Phil continued talking as he guided her out of the house into the dark of the night.  
  
Despite being a desert, the nighttime was surprisingly mild, Mitsuko sinking into the cool sand. The sky above was, for a change, not cloudy, but perfectly clear, revealing all of the sparkling stars against a blanket of deep blue. Mitsuko gazed up at it in wonder. She hadn't been outside all that much in her two years with RARE, and scarcely had she ever seen the sky clear, without a single cloud in the sky. Phil seemed to notice her fascination with the sky, craning his neck backwards to look at it as well. "Well, look at that. Mother Nature decided to grace us with some good weather for a change."  
  
With those words, Phil opened his wings, the soft wind inflating the skin flaps. With one steady push downwards with his wing muscles, he was into the air, pumping a bit more to get some more height. Turning around in the air, hovering slightly, he motioned for Mitsuko to follow. She did so, extending her wings to their maximum length and then activating the boosters on the back of them, kicking up some sand beneath her as she ascended into the air, the boosters glowing a bright yellowish-orange. Once they were level with one another, Phil took off towards the main part of the city, astonishingly fast on his small natural, wings. Taken off guard, Mitsuko hurried after him, careful not to accelerate too much.  
  
The two looked down at the great city, mostly ruined palaces and large buildings, makeshift roofs of weak wood thrown over the tops so that they could once again become places for sleeping and commerce alike. Below them, Neopets bustled about, again not a single human among their ranks. It was unusually busy for nighttime, and among the organic Neopets, Mitsuko could see flashes of metal-robotic Neopets, most deactivated and being carted around to the center of town. The center of town was set up like a large arena, a dusty circle surrounded by stands, marked by a few scant ropes.  
  
"It'll be much larger and extravagant in a few days. . .the faeries will make sure of it. Spruce it up with their magic. Many will migrate here just to see this stupid tournament. . .Sakhmet should be crawling with their filth in no time," spat Phil, his face darkening. His disapproval was shameless, and he growled to himself angrily.  
  
"You don't like it then."  
  
"No! I loathe it!"  
  
"You're organic. You have nothing to fear from this competition. Yet you hate it, and I feel nothing towards it." Mitsuko looked at him, staring him directly in the eye. "Why?"  
  
Phil was quiet for a moment as they hovered, seeming to contemplate his answer. He spoke, but slowly, unlike the chipper, fast speech he had rattled off before. He had shifted quickly from annoying to insightful in mood. "The tournament always comes here. . .I've seen it far too many times. I've seen so many robots go down. . .sentient ones and stupid ones alike. It makes no sense. . .we make them like ourselves, to think, and comprehend, and then sacrifice them in battle? That's what happens to most of the sentient ones anyway."  
  
"What's it for, though? Really?"  
  
"It was originally just an annual competition to see who could build the best warrior model. . .but it has increased to much more. It's like an Olympics for battle-type robots. Much good they'll do! They only destroy each other," laughed Phil bitterly, his sarcastic mood unsettling. "They are only many gladiators in a battlefield. . .they have no regard for the robots themselves."  
  
"I'm a robot. You speak as if I'm not even here," said Mitsuko coldly. Phil looked at her with an odd expression. A smile slipped across his face, breaking his damper mood.  
  
"Yeah, I guess you are. Sorry about that. . .still, I'd rather think of you as organic," said Phil, his expression suddenly pleasant. "That way, we can be friends. Not saying that we couldn't be friends because you're a robot. . .but. . ."  
  
"I don't need friends," replied Mitsuko, her expression bland. "Do you know the reason I was created, Mr. Phil?"  
  
"Just Phil is fine."  
  
"I asked you a question, Mr. Phil."  
  
"No. No, I don't know why you were created."  
  
"Neither do I, Mr. Phil. But I have programming within me that allows me to destroy. That allows me to destroy both flesh and machine. I am one of those warrior types, Mr. Phil, deep within me, whether I choose to deny it or not. Have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps these robots want to die for just the sake of fighting?" asked Mitsuko. Phil's face was bamboozled, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open vacantly.  
  
"But. . .but that's impossible. Why would a robot want to risk their lives for something so pointless?"  
  
"I don't know, Mr. Phil. But maybe. . .maybe liberating them would be pointless."  
  
The two floated silently above the ring, watching as check-ins began for robots, papers exchanging hands. "It doesn't change the fact. . .that I don't like it," whispered Phil to himself, shaking his head. Mitsuko did not reply, but allowed herself to be taken on the rest of the tour of Sakhmet City, although there was not much else to visit, besides the ruins of the palace and the market place, all which they did not directly get involved with.  
  
They soon landed once again in front of the place where they had started, the tingling smell of food drifting into Mitsuko's nose. It did not appeal to her, of course, but Phil seemed to react immediately, wrinkling his nose. "Ugh. . .I forgot that Frank's an atrocious cook," mumbled Phil to himself, moving his hand to his nose to evade the smell. "You want to go to my place?"  
  
Mitsuko looked at him evenly, judging him slowly and steadily. She measured him up critically, taking in account all of the words he had said, folding her wings against her back. The silence between them was extremely awkward, but Mitsuko hardly noticed the mood. Finally, she opened her wings once again, giving a slow nod. "Okay," she replied, her voice steady and dragged out, sounding like it were muffled by molasses. "Okay," she repeated, with more conviction, blinking hard. "Okay."  
  
Phil's face lit up like a light bulb, seeming to brighten up the darkness of night. "Okay!" he said, bouncing into the air, taking to the wing. "Just follow me, it's not that far away-you can stay with me, if you like, I always wanted a roommate."  
  
"And the doctor?"  
  
"He'll be fine. The man's been alone for the majority of his life. You think that it bothers him?" asked Phil. It was a rhetorical question, not to be answered, but Mitsuko couldn't help but feel the answer on her tongue, and spoke it silently for only herself to hear, the image of Krishna's tortured face as she left still imprinted strongly in the caverns of her memory.  
  
"Yes." 


	5. Attacked

"G'morning!"  
  
The suddenness of the morning sun streaming into her new bedroom shocked Mitsuko into awakening, the stats on her chest clicking into place. The false adrenaline rushed through her momentarily, causing her to jump to her feet, but she soon recalled where she was and the voice that was speaking. Blinking, she let her arms droop back to her sides, looking at Phil, already up, his tail swaying casually behind him. He held a tray of food in his hands, looking as if he were giving her breakfast in bed.  
  
"Hello," Mitsuko said carefully, eyeing the food.  
  
"You don't have to say anything-I know that robots don't eat much. But the doc said that your body was equipped to be able to eat and consume food as an extra source of energy, and your head unit can do it as well. So I was wondering if you'd like to expand your horizons," said Phil cheerfully.  
  
Mitsuko looked down at the bed behind her, and then back at Phil. It seemed strange, to be in this place, when just a day earlier she had been battling against faeries and seeing robots she had known, but not really known, for years fall to the mercilessness of Fyora's faeries. Yet she couldn't say that she felt anything for their deactivations-they were insignificant in her mind, just passing occurrences in her life, now passed occurrences. It was now that she was in, and Phil was now the occurrence in her life. So she sat down bit by bit on the bed, Phil sitting behind her and placing the tray of food on her lap.  
  
"See, here's some meat," he said, pointing towards a lump of brown material. Mitsuko held it up, sniffing it guardedly. Without haste, she placed it in her mouth, closing it.  
  
The sensation of taste was a completely new one for her, one that she didn't even know existed. Her tongue seemed to burst with the new sense, taste, making Mitsuko's eyes widen to enormous proportions. She waved her arms up and down, opening her mouth, unable to hold it in any longer. Phil quickly put his hand over her mouth, forcing her to keep it within her mouth. "Move your jaw up and down, like you're biting the meat again and again. Then force it down the back of your mouth," explained Phil, his touch gentle. Mitsuko looked at him with a fearful look, but his eyes reassured her. She followed his orders, swallowing, almost choking on the food. Phil stroked her neck to help the chunk of food down, Mitsuko panting as it slid down an invisible tube within her.  
  
"How was that?" asked Phil, smiling up at Mitsuko as she gasped for air.  
  
"Strange," she answered, blinking hard. "But. . .good. . ." she added, a certain satisfaction swelling within her stomach. She picked up another piece and tried chewing by herself, swallowing without so much as an incident. Phil gave a little round of applause.  
  
"Meat's a little tougher than the rest. . .I probably should've started you on the rice. It's a gone a little bit bad, but it's certainly better than any of the stuff you'll find in the marketplace." Mitsuko hardly heard him, beginning to down the food as if she hadn't eaten in years, which she hadn't. Soon, the food on the tray was gone, and Phil gave her an impressed look. "Not bad, for an amateur," he said with a wink.  
  
"It's fulfilling," she said, her eyes eagerly looking for more.  
  
"Yeah-but we've got a small supply, and you just ate my breakfast as well, so we can't have any more 'til dinner. Until then, you care to help with some chores around the house? 'Course, you're my guest, so you don't have to. . ."  
  
"I would like to," cut in Mitsuko, her voice definite. "I will help you." Phil's expression lightened from one of passive worry to one of happiness.  
  
"Great! We'll have to go to the marketplace, though, so you'll probably want to wear this cloak," he said, standing up and rummaging in the closet of the room, producing a brown sheet. "Most Neopets wear 'em anyway, but you'll have to wear it as a hood too. . .the marking on your forehead is pretty conspicuous." From the closet, he also pulled a golden and blue covering from the closet for himself. "Unless, of course, you want to wear mine. . .?" he offered, holding it out to her.  
  
"The brown one will do," she said, shaking her head at his offer and taking the brown one. She pulled it around her shoulder and over her head, tying the straps at the neck. "What will we be doing?"  
  
"Just some general errands. . .I'll introduce you to some people, and show you around the town more extensively," said Phil, walking out the door, Mitsuko following like an obedient dog after him. "Any objections?"  
  
"None," answered Mitsuko, trailing after Phil, keeping close to him. The experience in Krishna's town was still fresh in her mind despite happening so long ago, and she did not desire something like that to ever happen again. As they walked out into the town onto a main street, she clung even closer to Phil, practically grabbing to his arm. She knew to fight well, but this was obviously not an appropriate time, and she would have to control herself.  
  
"There's no need to be afraid, Suko-I won't let 'em hurt you," reassured Phil. Although Mitsuko knew the statement was said merely to soothe her, as it could not be true (Phil did not look very suited for battling, and she would be much better off just fending off her own villains), it still made her grip loosen on him, a bit of confidence ringing a chord in her heart. Straightening her back, she looked forward towards the bustling crowds and walked on, Phil a steady post beside her, the familiar sense of fearlessness creeping into her heart.  
  
Nothing could strike her down.  
  
". . .and so the ducks says, 'do you have any nails?'"  
  
Mitsuko could feel a smile creeping onto her face, not one of falsity, but of genuine amusement. The trueness of the smile was what felt so strange, making her face quiver and tingle with delight. She and Phil sat in one of the sand dunes, enjoying prime pieces of meat that they had managed to haggle for an excellent deal, baking them up to peak condition for a wonderfully juicy dinner, lighting up Mitsuko's senses. For the first time in her life, she could truly feel the sense of being alive, even if it was artificial, even if she had had to be alive behind a cloak, meeting so many new people who were actually happy to see her.  
  
"Y'know, I have yet to get a laugh out of you tonight," said Phil with a good-natured sigh, grinning. "One might question if you really have a full range of emotion."  
  
"I do," said Mitsuko, defending herself. It was difficult for her to think up a defense on the subject, however, so she did not back up her cause, merely falling silent, looking up into the sky, which was once again clear, save for a few wispy clouds, dancing over the pale moonlight.  
  
"Mr. Phil. . ." asked Mitsuko, leaning backwards into the ground, resting her hand in the pillow of the soft sands, ". . .do you know what really happened to this planet? To make it this way?"  
  
"Not really. . .I was very young when it happened, just hatched from the egg. I hardly even knew my owner. . .I can just remember her eyes, watching as I was born. They were so brilliantly blue. . .but I can't remember anything else," admitted Phil, leaning back with her to stare up at the sky. "They say horrible rays fell from the sky onto the planet, warping everything it touched. . .I myself have a bit of a deformity. . .one of my wing's longer than the other.but I've adapted to it. S'what we do after all. There were some plagues too. . .I think that's what claimed my owner. It claimed almost all of the humans-the others it didn't fled as fast as they could. I don't remember much else."  
  
"And it wasn't Frank Sloth's fault?"  
  
"No. He was an easy scapegoat at the time-he doesn't really have the cleanest record on Neopia. But he'd disbanded his armies before then, and had been rendered to a wheelchair before then."  
  
"What put him in the wheelchair?"  
  
"Somebody snapped one of his vertebrae near the base of his spine. . .probably an attempted assassination. They failed, obviously."  
  
The two gazed up at the sky, their silence calm and serene, their comfort levels with one another having increased quite a bit from a day ago.  
  
"Mr. Phil?"  
  
"Just Phil's fine."  
  
"Phil," she amended herself, closing her eyes. "It was. . .nice today."  
  
"Yeah. It's nice to have someone else helping you do your daily chores.less lonely, that's for sure."  
  
"Yeah. . ." With those words, it turned her mind back to Krishna's pained face, and a sense of guilt plugged itself into Mitsuko's stomach, making her feel uncomfortable. She turned over onto her side, turning her back to Phil. "I don't want to be lonely anymore," she admitted to herself privately, muttering it into the ground, the sand muffling the words beyond recognition.  
  
"Did you say something, Suko?" asked Phil with a yawn, turning his eyes towards Mitsuko, licking the remainder of the meat off of the stick that it had been served on. Mitsuko turned back onto her back, closing her eyes and giving off a long, tired sigh.  
  
"No. . .nothing at all."  
  
Waking up, for the next few days, was not a chore for Mitsuko. Instead of feeling the deep sense of laborious duty to wake up for another day of battling as she felt every day in the transport of RARE, she felt the warmth of a new day beginning, to a new adventure, in a way. Her sense of needing to be a warrior, needing to fight, needing to strike and be struck back at, was already fading by the moment, as days turned into weeks.  
  
The center of Sakhmet was building up steadily, and every day the crowds seemed to increase. Already some faeries were appearing at the center of the arena to begin to decorate it properly, setting up a seat for the main sponsor of the event, the head of their closed, unknown and locationless culture. Many Neopets were already beginning to stake out their seats in the arena, which seating areas seemed to be growing larger every day. Applications were still accepted for robots, but most of them had been rejected-as Phil had pointed out afterwards, people preferred to see the more 'popular' robots, with all the new technology plugged onto them duke it out in the middle of the arena. He explained that, in the end, there would be approximately twenty real competitors, with many other "bait" robots-in other words, robots accepted merely for the heavyweights to beat on.  
  
But she didn't really like thinking about the tournament too much now- Phil had already stated quite clearly that he would not even go to see the tournament, and Mitsuko didn't have it in her schedule either. Besides, she was beginning to grow attached to the Desert Shoyru on a personal level- more so than she had ever connected with anyone else, including Krishna.  
  
Yet this morning was strange-the sun was already high in the sky, indicating that Mitsuko had waken up later than usual, which was odd, for Phil usually woke her up quite promptly at the same time everyday, certainly earlier than it was now. Her senses heightening at the unusualness of the situation, she stood up, stretching her cramped limbs, despite the fact she had been sleeping on a bed for the past few weeks instead of leaning against the wall as she had done in RARE. Getting to her feet, she walked out of the room quietly, peering out of her door.  
  
"Phil?"  
  
There was no reply to her query, and she stepped out into the hallway, looking around. She began to go down the hallway, checking every room, peeking her head in and calling out for Phil. She was not answered, however, even as she entered the kitchen/dining room/living room. It was vacant as well, void of any sign of life, besides the side of a sheet flapping in the wind that coursed through the room from an opened window. Mitsuko looked for some indication that he was okay-a note, something else that showed he hadn't vanished into thin air. A nervousness rose within her, an unfamiliar sense of insecurity finding its way into her body.  
  
The sheet that covered the front of the doorway rustled, suddenly, Mitsuko's head snapping in the direction of the door. "Phil?" she called, but received no reply, though the curtain continued to move about, as if being stirred by an invisible force. It was certainly not a wind, and so Mitsuko crept towards the curtain, pulling it back suddenly, ripping it from its attachment to the door.  
  
Immediately, something flew from the dirty, red curtain, catapulting across the walls and finally coming to a stop before Mitsuko, skittering to the ground, making a familiar, irritating buzzing noise. Seeming to realize that the floor was not an ideal place for it to be, the small, metal object floated into the air, hovering at Mitsuko's eye level, something attached to what appeared to be tiny little hands.  
  
As Mitsuko looked closer at the now non-moving object, it was clear that it was a messenger robot, shaped like a Buzz. It was a particularly familiar one, and the message it held seemed to be for her, as it waved its small little arms up and down at her, squeaking her name again and again in its machine-like voice. "Mitsuko! Mitsuko!" It came to her that the Buzz must've been the small robot that Krishna had used for sending and receiving messages-yes, she remembered seeing it frequently at his house, constantly overhead, waiting to be sent off on an errand. A pang of worry struck into Mitsuko's heart, but she would not let herself overreact until she what was actually happening.  
  
Snatching the small piece of paper from the Buzz, she reached for the back of its body, flipping its switch to off and then catching it before it fell to the ground and broke itself. Setting the deactivated messenger Buzz on the table, she paced around the room, reading the hastily scrawled handwriting, just barely legible and with sentences hardly put into full, complete thoughts.  
  
Mitsuko could make out her name at the top if she squinted, and then worked on the other words, using a program stored within the back of her brain to determine the words each scribble was supposed to form. She could make out something about an attack on his house, his own kidnapping, the word faeries, and something about the RBT, the words written so sloppily that they intertwined with one another, making it next to impossible for the writing to be read. At the bottom was a signature consisting of a K and then a long, scribbled line-assumedly Krishna's sign-off.  
  
A sense of urgency found its way into Mitsuko's stomach, making her glad that she hadn't decided to eat anything that morning. If she had translated it well enough, it was very clear that Krishna was in some sort of trouble, possibly caused by an attack by faeries onto his house. She couldn't quite figure out how the RBT was linked, except for the fact that it was run by faeries. Quickly, she reached down to the Buzz messenger and turned him back on, holding him close to her face.  
  
"Did Doctor Krishna leave a verbal message?" demanded Mitsuko, staring intensely at the small machine.  
  
"Searching!" replied the Buzz cheerily, his yellow eyes temporarily dulling as he searched his database. In a few moments, he piped up again in his automatically happy voice. "No record of voice message! Please return me to. . ." The Buzz began to rattle off the location of Krishna's house, finally falling silent after he had blurted out the return address. Mitsuko once again shut him off, putting him back on the table to be used later.  
  
The RBT, Mitsuko had little doubt, was linked to the attack on Krishna's house. The initials were one of the few clear things in the note, and underlined along with a few other words darkly. Mitsuko began going through the possibilities in her mind, eliminating a few that seemed unreasonable.  
  
Mitsuko's train of thought, however, was interrupted abruptly as a sharp pain suddenly struck through the side of her face, a fierce wind whipping through the room, knocking some figures off of platforms that they had stood on solidly just moments before. Mitsuko's head snapped in the direction that the wind was going, eyes lighting up in injury. Putting her hand against her cheek, which now sported a long, red line where she had been struck, she glared at the new presence in the room with a ferocity, her eyes adjusting to looking at a lighter spot to a darker one.  
  
Standing in the back of the room was a lithe, humanoid figure, curvy like a real woman. She was taller than the average faerie, and unlike many faeries, sported a real sword instead of a staff. Judging by her build, she relied more on physical power than elemental. Large, butterfly-like wings spread behind her, and she wore a two-piece outfit of deep green. Her hair was of a light magenta color, matching with the brightness of her eyes, a cruel smile twisted onto her lips.  
  
"You are the robot called Mitsuko, are you not?" asked the faerie, twirling her sword and crouching into an on-guard position, the tip pointed towards Mitsuko's face.  
  
"Who wants to know?" demanded Mitsuko, her eyes narrowing.  
  
"Tahora, our Empress, the one who has sent me to you, the robot of the half-faerie Krishna. I am the Battle Faerie. I am your death!" 


	6. Agreement

With those words, she let loose a cry like a wild animal and shot forward at an amazing speed, her wings turning into a mere blur. In an instant, Mitsuko reacted to the sudden attack, her boosters activating and launching her backwards straight through the door, hardly so much as knicking her metal on the way out, being driven into the air, zooming upwards. The faerie followed diligently afterwards, swinging her sword expertly, Mitsuko just barely able to dodge the assaults. Soon, they were high up in the air, duking it out a dog-fight up in the air.  
  
The Battle Faerie hovered in the air, pointing her sword at Mitsuko. It looked at first as if she was going to charge, but instead of launching forwards, a stream of water burst from the tip of the sword, racing towards Mitsuko. Mitsuko shot upwards, but the water pursued after her, no matter how she twisted and spun around in the air, trying all of her aerial tricks which admittedly weren't much.  
  
Suddenly, she shot upwards, high into the sky, the Battle Faerie having to look up in order to see her, Mitsuko's body becoming a small dot in the sky. The Battle Faerie squinted, hardly able to see the robot. For a moment, she was convinced that the robot had overestimated her limits and had forced herself through the atmosphere, thin as it was, and had melted herself to nothing. She even began to retreat-but soon found that she had made a dire mistake.  
  
Mitsuko dropped down like a stone, her descending speed incredible, comparable of that to a Pteri falcon in a stoop after aerial prey. The water was right behind her, a long, thin line that never left her tail, transforming into a hand that reached at her. However, she was not about to be caught. She nearly slammed right into the Battle Faerie, missing her by inches, and then flipping onto her back at the last second, grabbing the Battle Faerie in her death plunge, yet steadying herself out, her boosters activating, having been shut off before.  
  
The Battle Faerie realized what Mitsuko meant to do as she was forced to look upwards into a line of water. The liquid descended upon her, splashing her and drenching her totally, though not freezing as it would've done if it had hit Mitsuko. The Battle Faerie, drenched and furious, tried to kick her way out of Mitsuko's grip as they still fell downwards. She barely managed to turn around, grasping Mitsuko by the neck, her fingers clawing at the metallic supports that connected Mitusko's body to her head.  
  
The two nearly hit the ground, straightening out into a horizontal position just before they would've slammed into the ground, making an enormous sand crater. They kicked up sand as they skimmed at high speeds across the ground, each trying to rip the other apart. They sped through the streets of Sakhmet, hardly noticing the gasps and Neopets around them that just barely managed to get out of the way. Desperately, seeing that they would slam into a quite solid shop if they continued going in the direction they were headed, the Battle Faerie banked upwards with all of her strength, sending them spinning upwardly vertically, unlocking their death grips on one another.  
  
As soon as she had released the Battle Faerie, Mitsuko was back in action. Lowering her head like a bull ready to charge, she flared her boosters, sending her rocketing forward. Her head collided with the Battle Faerie's soft stomach, made of tender flesh and quite exposed due to her style of dress. The Battle Faerie gave a moan of pain, being slammed backwards, nearly getting knocked from the sky. She gripped tightly to her sword, however, and stabbed downwards into Mitsuko, her sword piercing through her metallic body. Mitsuko gave a shriek, not of pain but of surprise, pulling back and away, the Battle Faerie pulling out the sword simultaneously, covering in black oil.  
  
"You like that, robot?" sneered the Battle Faerie, holding her sword out for Mitsuko to see. Mitsuko looked down at the hole in her body, seeing that she was rapidly using fuel, draining from the sword wound and dripping to the ground far below. "Just because you're made of metal doesn't mean you can't be harmed." She held forward her sword like a fencing weapon, her arm tilted upwards and the sword pointed at Mitsuko, who was distracted with the hole in her body. "No more free shots."  
  
The Battle Faerie lunged forwards to make her final strike, Mitsuko not able to react fast enough, the faerie like a streak of light, her sword a blazing strip of hot metal. Mitsuko could only try and dodge, finding she was not fast enough with her sluggish metal body, knowing that she was doomed to whatever fate the Battle Faerie determined was just. Thankfully, Mitsuko wasn't the only one looking out for her tail.  
  
The Battle Faerie suddenly stopped in mid-strike, letting out a horrible shriek that started quite high and then quickly descended down the scale, a woozy look overcoming the faerie, who wobbled in the air. A small dart stuck from her neck's fair skin, and her wings suddenly became still, the faerie plummeting to the ground, eyes closed, body completely limp.  
  
Mitsuko landed slowly, floating just above the faerie's sleeping form, her chest rising and falling evenly. She took the sword easily from the Battle Faerie's hand, looking around for who shot the tranquilizer dart.  
  
"See? Just like riding a bike-you never forget," came Phil's voice from behind her. Mitsuko craned her neck, her eyes locking in on Phil's golden form as well as Dr. Sloth, holding a tranquilizer rifle across his chest.  
  
"You're just lucky I used to hunt ducks," grumbled the doctor, rubbing the black metal of the rifle. Phil abandoned the side of Dr. Sloth's wheelchair and ran up to Mitsuko, his smile melting as he looked over Mitsuko's body, seeing the large hole caused by the sword, as well as the sword dripping oil into the sand, making a hole in the ground.  
  
"You're hurt," he said, his eyes widening. Mitsuko nodded, handing him the sword and using her hands to cover the wound.  
  
"It's nothing big. It just needs a new metal plate. . .and I'll need a refuel," said Mitsuko simply, not wanting to worry Phil. It would've been a large issue if she were organic, but thankfully, she was not. "Krishna's in trouble," she reported, her eyes darkening, speaking more to herself than the others.  
  
As Phil inspected the wound worriedly, his forehead covered in wrinkles, Dr. Sloth wheeled up behind them slowly, the sand not serving for very good traction for a wheelchair. He tipped forward in the chair, looking at the faerie on the ground. "The Battle Faerie," he said flatly, pushing up his glasses with his index finger, his face falling. "They sent the Battle Faerie."  
  
"What should we do with her?" asked Mitsuko, Phil wrapping up her waist with his head covering. Mitsuko tried to resist this offer, but Phil insisted, tying it up at her side.  
  
"If they sent the Battle Faerie after you, they must need you deactivated, or otherwise destroyed. When she wakes up, we can get information out of her. I was always a persuasive talker," Dr. Sloth snorted. "Phil, pick her up and bring her to my lab. Mitsuko, you come with- you're going to need repairs. That gold-and-blue bandage might suppress blood until skin could heal, but unfortunately, metal doesn't heal."  
  
The two nodded, Phil picking up the Battle Faerie roughly with little regard for her comfort, slinging her limp form over his shoulder. Mitsuko took the handles of Dr. Sloth's wheelchair and pushed him forward towards his house, the three making slow progress, but all alive.  
  
The Battle Faerie was laid out on the metal table, her chest rising and falling with her steady, even breaths, sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the iron restraints fixed about her neck, wrists, ankles and waist. At least she was able to get some rest-Phil had been up the whole time watching her, Dr. Sloth and Mitsuko over in the corner, the doctor attempting to patch up Mitsuko's rather deep injury, spanning from the front of her body, penetrating all the way to the other side.  
  
"I don't know how well this will hold. . .in any case, it's only temporary until I can get some better material," sighed Dr. Sloth, twisting his wrist to lock in the final screw to keep the metal covering in place. Flipping open a small door on Mitsuko's chest, he placed a tube connecting to a tank of oil in the hole, pulling up a lever. "And you're draining my supply of oil quite rapidly, Miss Mitsuko-I'd appreciate if you'd try and keep it inside your gas tank."  
  
"Yes, sir," said Mitsuko, hardly listening. Her eyes were focused on the Battle Faerie, her former opponent, looking so vulnerable now on the table. Now that Mitsuko wasn't facing her in battle, she could admire the gracefulness of her body, beautiful yet deadly at the same time. What most mesmerized Mitsuko, however, were the long, butterfly-like wings, iridescent, shining with millions of individual colors depending upon how the light fell upon them. Mitsuko had always secretly craved organic wings, finding hers rather clunky and inconvenient, although she supposed they did drain less of her energy.  
  
The faerie stirred briefly, her eyelashes fluttering, giving a little moan. She tried to move her legs, but apparently found they were stuck, her bare skin brushing against the cold metal. She gave a little start, and then her eyes popped open, her neck jumping upwards, trying to see what had happened to her body.  
  
"Wretch! What have you done to me?!" roared the Battle Faerie. "My Empress Tahora will avenge me!"  
  
"Chill out, you're not dead yet," said Phil, sticking out his tongue. Mitsuko sidled up next to Phil, glaring down at the Battle Faerie. The faerie glared back, her muscles tensing.  
  
"You! What did you do to me?!" the Battle Faerie demanded of Mitsuko. "Tranquilizations are unjust!"  
  
"It would be more appropriate to ask what I did to you-for I was the one that fired the tranquilizer dart," grumbled Dr. Sloth, rolling up aside the metal bed on the opposite side of Mitsuko and Phil. Upon setting eyes on Dr. Sloth, Mitsuko was convinced the Battle Faerie was going to pass out of natural causes this time-but she regained herself, baring her teeth.  
  
"You're supposed to be dead!"  
  
"A lot of people say that," replied Dr. Sloth flatly, his red eyes emotionless. "Now, let us discuss the half-faerie Krishna." The Battle Faerie snarled, spitting onto the doctor's face, hitting his glasses. The doctor seemed to stiffen, and then relaxed, taking off his glasses and wiping them with the edge of his lab coat.  
  
"You'll never get a single word out of me, scum-I have been sworn to secrecy! My Empress Tahora-"  
  
"Who is Tahora, anyway? I thought Fyora was the crown queen," asked Phil, lifting an eyebrow.  
  
"It's of no matter now," interrupted Dr. Sloth, his jaw clenching, looking almost in pain. "What matters is why you were after Mitsuko-and what has become of the half-faerie Krishna."  
  
"I'd sooner die than tell you!" retorted the Battle Faerie, fire in her eyes.  
  
"Shall we test that theory?" asked Dr. Sloth dryly, backing up his wheelchair and picking up a syringe, filling it full of a potent, puke- green chemical with a practiced preciseness. He wheeled back towards the table, wrapping a rubber arm band around her arm, holding up the syringe and pressing the needle flat against the bend in the Battle Faerie's elbow. "Old habits die hard," smirked Dr. Sloth, seeming to take delight in the fear arising in the Battle Faerie's eyes. "And I haven't had a faerie test subject in so long."  
  
The Battle Faerie swallowed, staring down at her arm, at the sharp needle threatening to break her tender skin. The needle pressed harder and harder against her skin, and finally she snapped, her eyes squeezing shut. "All right! Put away the needle and I'll tell you!"  
  
"We appreciate your cooperation," said Dr. Sloth, pulling away the syringe and putting it aside, taking the band off of her arm.  
  
The Battle Faerie gritted her teeth, and then spoke, eyes opening and staring at the ceiling. "The half-faerie Krishna has been captured, his house burned, for he will not need to return to it. He is in the custody of our Empress Tahora-what happens to him is up to her alone to determine."  
  
"So he is alive," affirmed Mitsuko, staring at the Battle Faerie.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why were you after Mitsuko?"  
  
"The half-faerie Krishna spoke of the robot Mitsuko-he tried to make contact with her, and it was only natural that we wanted to destroy her before the information had gotten to her. Unfortunately, I was a little late.and she was being watched," said the Battle Faerie, glaring at Phil and Dr. Sloth.  
  
"Is there any chance that you would let Krishna go?"  
  
"The Empress is free to do what she pleases with her slaves. Though she may be bought over by a certain sum of cash."  
  
"In the price area of.?"  
  
"Two million Neopoints." Eyes widened in the room at the mention of the enormous sum of money. None of them had ever even laid eyes on that much money (save for perhaps Dr. Sloth in his criminal days); it was an unheard of amount in the current times.  
  
"Are you kidding? Nobody has that money-not even the royal family of Sakhmet."  
  
"True. . .but the winner of the RBT this year will be pleasantly surprised with the rise in reward prices. . ." commented the Battle Faerie, her eyes wandering towards Mitsuko. Immediately, Phil's face hardened from one of astonishment at the amount of money to anger.  
  
"No," he said, his voice hard and determined. "Not happening. Uh-uh."  
  
"Let the piece of scrap metal speak for herself-anyway, I doubt she could do much damage. Had to get help in beating me, plus she's injured. . .if you ask me, you should just take her to a junkyard now," offered the Battle Faerie with a roll of her eyes. "A useless robot should be disposed of."  
  
"She's not useless!" shouted Phil, his eyes burning. "You don't know what you're talking about! You didn't see half of what she was made of!"  
  
"Oh really? Then she should have no problem snatching the prize then," replied the Battle Faerie dryly.  
  
"She's not entering," said Phil, his voice gravely final.  
  
"Let the robot speak for herself. Unless she's not smart enough to even do that.?"  
  
"I can speak, faerie," cut in Mitsuko, her voice steady and emotionless. "And although my friend Phil may have my best interests in mind, I do not agree with him. If Krishna's safety is at stake, I will gladly enter the RBT."  
  
"But Mitsuko-" began Phil, his eyes filled with disbelief.  
  
"I would appreciate if you didn't make decisions for me," interrupted Mitsuko, her tone icy. "Just because I'm made of metal doesn't that I can be ordered around." Phil looked as if he had been slapped in the face, a stunned expression caught on his face, rendering him unable to speak.  
  
"You need a sponsor, though, robot called Mitsuko. And it appears your organic Shoyru friend here does not want to cooperate with being such," replied the Battle Faerie, clearly amused at the infighting between them. Mitsuko turned her head to Phil, her eyebrows turned downwards, asking his mentally to agree, to allow her to enter. But the Desert Shoyru refused, shaking his head slowly, turning away from her, all traces of a smile gone from his face.  
  
"I will," spoke up Dr. Sloth, looking tired. "I will sponsor you, Mitsuko, if it is so important that you save Krishna." Dr. Sloth looked over to Phil, as if to apologize. The Desert Shoyru turned away bitterly, and turned away from the whole of them, walking out of the room, his back uncommonly straight, as if a board were attached to it.  
  
"Now that I have given you all the information you require, I would be much obliged if you released me," said the Battle Faerie, unaffected by Phil's change in emotion. Mitsuko did not answer, distracted by Phil, watching him charge in a huff out of the room. It wasn't as if he were leaving in a rage, like a little child defeated after a tantrum-he looked honestly perturbed, deeply wounded by Mitsuko's choice to participate in the RBT. Dr. Sloth, however, had the Battle Faerie covered.  
  
"I'm sorry, Miss Battle Faerie, but frankly, I don't trust faeries, and I haven't for a very long time. We're going to have a nice little conversation, okay?" said Dr. Sloth, smiling sadistically. Mitsuko hardly heard his words, however, for she was departing the room, following after Phil.  
  
He had made progress in the seconds that she had hesitated to follow, but tracking him wasn't difficult-he left his scent everywhere, and all she needed to do was increase the sensitivity of her scent sensor. He had already made his way outside, where it was dark, forcing her to put on her night vision, for Dr. Sloth's house was significantly far from town and its bright lights. As she scanned the horizon with heat vision activated, she could see a bright pinpoint of heat in the distance in a Shoyru shape. She jumped into the air and accelerated after it, catching up to the Desert Shoyru in no time.  
  
"Phil."  
  
Phil didn't respond to his name being called, even as Mitsuko hovered above him, her boosters not exactly the quietest things on Earth. She repeated his name, and even jumped right in front of him. The only thing he did to react was to shoot her a harsh look and spiral downwards, flopping down into the sand, sitting hard on his behind. Seeming defeated from trying to get some solitude. Mitsuko landed next to him, looking at him interrogatively, his head in his hands, eyes staring forward with an uncommon hardness in them. It almost scared her to see him that upset-it was so unlike the Phil she knew.  
  
"You're angry."  
  
"Master of the obvious," retorted Phil bitterly. Mitsuko pulled back, as if she had been struck. Phil wasn't one to use sarcasm or sharp words- yet now.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I told you I hate the RBT. . ." grumbled Phil, pulling his knees up to his head, sinking his face into them, muffling his words. ". . .and then you go and volunteer just like that. Couldn't you have at least hesitated a bit? Just to give me a little bit of false hope?" He looked up, a strained smile on his face. Not quite Phil, but getting closer.  
  
"Why do you hate the RBT so much?" Phil's face looked troubled at the question, looking back down into the sand, his smile, fake as it was, dissolving.  
  
". . .It's not important. . ." he mumbled, turning his eyes downwards, obviously unwilling to speak on the subject. He changed it immediately, his eyes snapping up to her and staring directly in her eyes. "Is this Krishna person really that important to you?"  
  
Mitsuko paused before answering, watching Phil draw circles in the sand with his finger. "Yes. . .I wasn't with him for much more than a week. . .maybe less, it's getting blurry in my mind. But when I reactivated. . .he was the first thing that I saw. I don't know. Have you ever heard how Pteris imprint on the first moving thing that they see, be it a curtain, or their actual mother?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I think it's like that. Dr. Krishna is. . .like a father to me. I would give my life for him."  
  
"For a man you've only known a week?"  
  
"Yes. In an instant."  
  
"Would you give your life for me?"  
  
The question came out of the blue for Mitsuko, having to tune in, record the message, rewind and replay it in her mind to verify that he had asked what he had. She stared at him blankly, unsure what to say. She didn't enjoy lying-in fact, she had a reputation for being quite blunt. Yet as she thought about it, considering the scenarios in her mind, she wondered. . .would she? Would she sacrifice her life for Phil, whom she had known longer than Krishna? Why couldn't she answer yes, just to make him happy, just to have that smile remain on his face?  
  
"Why do you ask?" was all she could manage. Phil shook his head, smiling sadly, turning his face towards the solemn moonlight, peeking through the gathering clouds. In the moonlight, he radiated with a strange, golden glow, seeming to illuminate him, making him glow as if he were a god of the night, closing his eyes, bathing in the light. She again found herself staring at his brilliance, finding it vanish as soon as she blinked, as soon as he spoke his next words.  
  
"No reason. Just a silly question," amended Phil. "You don't have to answer." The last statement was said with a reluctance-it was obviously he preferred that she answer, but she obliged with his last statement, keeping herself quiet, looking up into the moon with him.  
  
"Do you think that somebody guards it?"  
  
"Where?"  
  
"The moon, of course. I remember someone in RARE speaking of a bright light that could be seen around the moon before the radiation came. . .a shining light in the tunnel of darkness, guarding the planet of Neopia, guarding the moon. I think. . .he said that when the light went out. . .that's when the darkness came."  
  
"The Space Faerie?"  
  
"I guess. I only heard it from someone. . .probably not a reliable source. Who's the Space Faerie?"  
  
"A guardian of Neopia. Kind of like the Battle Faerie, but seen less. They say. . .they say that when you die, you become a shooting star, and the Space Faerie directs you to the heavens," said Phil with a hint of a smile. The smile quickly turned to one of seriousness. "I'd advise not mentioning her around the doc."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Touchy subject. A nasty relationship at best," snorted Phil, seeming amused.  
  
"Is there something I should know?"  
  
"Nah, it's not really relevant anymore." Phil fell quiet, gazing at the moon. With his index finger, he pointed towards the sky, tracing the path of a star that shot across the sky, Mitsuko watching it in wonderment. Mitsuko found herself drawn to him underneath the half-lit sky, clouds seething and writhing over the light, relaying distorted black shapes onto the sand. For a moment, it seemed as if he were the only Neopet on the universe that could offer some kind of comfort for her-for deep within herself, a fear arose, the fear of realization of what she had promised to do. Fear was an odd sensation for her, quite foreign, but in a strange way, a welcome one. The dependence, the vulnerability.all weaknesses, yet all inspiring a sense of being alive inside of Mitsuko.  
  
Her body seemed to be out of her control as she felt it lean towards Phil, hardly noticing, concentrating on the moon. Before she could realize what she was doing, she felt her cheek against his shoulder, his skin warm compared to the cooling air of the night. His muscles tensed slightly, but then relaxed, a peaceful look spreading onto his face. The pressure of his head finding its way onto hers was noticeable but light. She hardly reacted to it-it felt like a certain piece of a puzzle was falling into place, and she wasn't going to be the one to disturb its perfection.  
  
Something in Mitsuko, however, told her not to give in to the temptation of curling into Phil's lap, to submit to the alleged 'romance' of the situation. Something, a different something, made her pull away from the sweet moment of comfortable silence, slowly shaking off Phil's head, her head moving back and forth, the word 'no' repeating itself over and over in her mind. She stood up, her back feeling uncomfortably straight, looking down at the confused Phil, a questioning look on his face, asking her why she had parted their tender minute.  
  
"I'm sorry, Phil. I'm sorry."  
  
She took off into the sky, climbing higher and higher, as if trying to isolate herself from the world. While one part of her congratulated herself for keeping control of her feelings, another wept in the background, knowing that she had missed an opportunity, one generally offered to only to organic Neopets. Looking upwards, seeing the moon above her, she could only wish that she could become the Space Faerie and flee to the moon, where she would no longer have to worry about the feelings of others around her. 


	7. Decision

Mitsuko wasn't quite sure what happened after that-she knew, however, that she spent the remainder of the night wandering, traveling in circles to ensure that she did not wander too far. She still had a duty to Krishna, to at least attempt to earn the cash sum required to free him by competing in the RBT. She supposed she circled around Sakhmet City for the entire night, not knowing where to go-she certainly couldn't go back to Phil's place. Although she knew that her emotional detachment hadn't bothered her in the past, now it struck her hard on the insides. There was a conflict waging between two separate sides within her, blazing on day and night-and Mitsuko could only stand on the sidelines, helpless to decide her fate.  
  
When the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon, Mitsuko felt a sense of relief wash over her. Now, she felt she could land, instinctively heading towards Phil's residence. As soon as she realized what she was doing, though, she jerked to a stop in the air, nearly plummeting to the ground with the sudden engagement of her breaks. Automatically, she refired her boosters, finding herself hovering above Phil's place. Although she wanted to move so feverishly, she found herself paralyzed above the house, only able to stare downwards. Was he inside? Had he gone back to his house after she had left?  
  
'No. Turn around, Mitsuko. You have to get to Dr. Sloth's house to register with him for the RBT.'  
  
She turned away from the house, swallowing hard as she moved away from it. It felt as if a hook had been connected to her insides and the end had been attached to Phil's house, trying to drag her back. She resisted the urge to turn around and go back, to check if Phil was there. Pushing herself forward, she found herself at Dr. Sloth's house after a few agonizing minutes, having gone slower than usual subconsciously, landing with a bit of relief, inviting herself in. (Locks, as Mitsuko had learned, were hardly ever used, despite the high crime rate in the city.)  
  
"Doctor?" she called through the house. She didn't expect a reply immediately, at least not until she had gotten deeper into the house-it was difficult for Dr. Sloth to hear anyone entering while he was in the laboratory, for the doors were of a rare, heavy material. Yet there was still movement in the house which caught Mitsuko's eye, her head shooting towards the area which had moved. She found herself looking at the couch, and as her eyes adjusted to the dimness of being inside, she soon found herself wanting to leave.  
  
Phil had blended in quite well with the tan-gold color of the couch, almost a perfect camouflage for his skin color. Without his usual blue-and- gold shawl on, which was being washed for it had been stained by the oil Mitsuko had been leaking earlier, she hadn't noticed him until he had moved. If she had had her heat vision on, perhaps it would've been different, but now she found herself stuck, unable to move from the place she stood. Though she had an urge to flee, she found her legs seemingly nailed to the ground, not allowing her to move.  
  
Phil gave a yawn, stretching, apparently just waking up. He caught sight of her a few seconds later and did a double-take, though seemed apathetic the second time he looked back. Standing up, he greeted her a solemn good morning with a smile, though Mitsuko could barely determine whether it was authentic or fake. Hopping off of the couch, Phil wandered to the kitchen, Mitsuko timidly following after him.  
  
"Good morning," she replied after a moment's time, Phil already beginning to cook some kind of mushy gruel above a fire in the rather primitive kitchen.  
  
"Mmm," was his answer, stirring the mixture in the small bowl, not looking at Mitsuko. An awkward silence grew between the two of them, Phil keeping his back towards Mitsuko. His mood seemed to be cheery, but he wasn't talking, a good indication that it was all an act. Mitsuko cleared her throat, realizing that she would have to take the situation into her own hands.  
  
"Look. . .Phil, about last night-"  
  
"There's no need to mention it," said Phil with a shrug, his voice light. He stirred the gruel a bit, and then spoke again. "I just. . .forget sometimes. Y'know, that you're. . .not like me. History's bound to repeat itself anyway." Seeming to determine that the gruel was done cooking, he lifted the pot and grabbed a bowl, pouring a portion into it. "You want some?" he asked, looking up to Mitsuko. She turned her eyes away from his and shook her head, staring hard at the ground.  
  
"No, I'm fine."  
  
"It's not an issue, Suko," cut in Phil dismissively, sitting down at the table, picking up a spoon and waving it in the air. "Dr. Sloth's in the lab. You can go get him and register at any time-registration should be open by now."  
  
"Oh. Of course," said Mitsuko with a firm nod. She turned around and began walking out of the kitchen, only to pause and turn back. "Phil. . ." she started, her words dragging out, seeming to be stuck in her throat. Phil raised an eyebrow, placing a spoonful of the gruel into his mouth.  
  
"What's up? Spit it out," he said, giving her an encouraging smile.  
  
"It's just. . .thank you."  
  
" 'Thank you?' What exactly have I done to merit such a grace from the great Mitsuko?" asked Phil with a wink. He was acting normally, but it gave Mitsuko an uneasiness-there was something off about his happiness.  
  
"Thank you. . .for saving me when RARE was destroyed. That's all," she said, still finding herself incapable to admit what she had felt last night. She nodded shortly, as if having to reassure herself. "Yes. Thank you."  
  
"Anything for you, Suko," he said, giving her a salute with two available fingers. He turned his attention back to his food, and Mitsuko pulled herself away from the kitchen door, heading into the lab. She entered without knocking, finding all of the lights on, Dr. Sloth working in the corner. The Battle Faerie was still laid out on the metal table, not bothering to struggle anymore, merely shooting glares at them.  
  
"Can't she magick her way out of those or something?" asked Mitsuko, regarding the Battle Faerie, speaking to Dr. Sloth.  
  
"No. Miss Battle Faerie here is into physical weaponry, as well as hand-to-hand combat-the only magic she knows is summoning water. Isn't that right, Miss Battle Faerie?" asked Dr. Sloth, twisting his head around to look at the Battle Faerie, grinning. She snarled, not dignifying his question with a respond. Dr. Sloth turned back to his work, pouring some chemicals from a flask into a test tube. "I assume you're here to collect me and sign up for the RBT?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Alright, then. Time's a wasting, and this experiment holds little interest for me anyway," he said, beginning to clean up, putting the test tube into a test tube holder, pouring the contents of the flask into a larger container. Wheeling over to the sink, he began to wash out the flask. "Can't seem to make anything interesting these days, ever since I swore off of experiments on Neopets," he admitted, scrubbing the inside of the flask thoroughly with a rag. When it was cleaned, he put it aside, proceeding to wash his hands. "The papers are over on that table," he said, motioning towards a metal table right next to her. "I've filled them out, except for your model number. I'm almost afraid to ask, but do you remember your model number now?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Alright then, we'll just make one up. They only look to make sure it's completely filled out anyway," said Dr. Sloth with a shrug, wheeling towards Mitsuko, producing a pen from his pocket. He scribbled down a number in the blank space, pulling away the pen and blowing on the wet ink. "From here on in, your model number is 1748. Got it?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Okay, then." He picked up the paper and folded it neatly, placing it in his pocket. "Let's go."  
  
They exited the house, bidding a farewell to Phil, who did not respond. Mitsuko took station behind Dr. Sloth's wheelchair, gripping the handles and pushing him forwards, the doctor folding his arms into his lap. The two approached the center of Sakhmet City silently, already able to see the long, winding line for registrations. As they joined the end of the line, many coming behind them, Mitsuko found herself beginning to speak.  
  
"Dr. Sloth."  
  
"Frank is fine. Titles are arbitrary in this world."  
  
"Frank, then. Is Phil prone to mood swings?"  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Last night, he seemed furious that I even suggest joining the RBT. But now.he just seems.uncaring."  
  
"No, his mood on the matter hasn't changed. It's understandable."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Phil is. . .well, Phil is the type of person that doesn't exactly wear their heart on their sleeves. . .at least for too long. Maybe once in a while when he gets really angry. . .but those occasions are so rare. You saw one of them last night. Phil would rather let the world see him as always amiable-almost perfect in a strange sense. Masks his feelings. Of course, all things sentient do that. . .Phil just seems to be unusually adapted to it. It's difficult to tell when he's actually upset."  
  
"He wouldn't tell me why he hated the RBT so much. . .beyond the fact that he disliked seeing robots being smashed. There's something more that he's not telling me."  
  
"Perceptive. But that's his story to tell, not mine. He'll tell you in due time, if he finds the need. I'll just say this-you're not the first sentient robot that Phil's ever met," replied Dr. Sloth. The two fell into silence again, being absorbed into the bustle around them, all individual voices merging into one constant hum of noise. The line moved rapidly enough, some applications being rejected, others accepted. A few apparently 'famous' robots' creators were surrounded by flocks of Neopets, trying to ask tips on how to build a robot like theirs. Before long, Mitsuko found herself rolling Dr. Sloth's wheelchair before the small stand, covered in a large blanket of Elephante skins to block those at the table from the brutal torture of the midday sun.  
  
There were three that sat at the table: the one in the middle was the jaded queen faerie Fyora, looking older than her eternal youth should've allowed. Sweat ran down her delicate forehead, and she seemed to barely keep cool, the second in the makeshift tent a water faerie that constantly misted the exhausted faerie. Standing over the side of the queen faerie was a dark blue Blumaroo, larger than any organic Blumaroo Mitsuko had ever seen. Her eyes were a burning red, and instead of standing on its tail, she, instead, preferred to stand on her feet like a human would.  
  
"Garoo?" Dr. Sloth exclaimed, fixing his glasses as if to check his vision. The Blumaroo stared down at the doctor quizzically, and then seemed to recognize him, a smile spreading across her face.  
  
"Doctor! I thought you were dead!" The Blumaroo's voice was deep, almost like that of a man's, but still carried a sense of femininity.  
  
"I guess that's a popular opinion of myself."  
  
"I don't remember you being in a wheelchair."  
  
"I traded the function for my legs for another life. I think it was one of the wisest decisions I've made thus far. But it's no time for a reunion," amended Dr. Sloth, clearing his throat. "I am here to enter my. . .custom robot into this tournament." He placed the papers on the table, sliding them across to Fyora, who glanced at them apathetically, her face seeming to be stuck in a tired expression. Her eyes seemed to regain life, however, as she read the name on the top of the papers, almost having not noticed who was in front of her.  
  
"You!" she shouted, once again alive and youthful, yet steaming with rage. "You. . .you. . .monster!" she cried, seething with rage. "It's your fault that all this has happened! Yours! Destroy him and his blasted robot!"  
  
"Fyora, my queen!" cried the water faerie, grabbing her queen by the arm. "He is nothing more than a cripple now. Leave him be. . .the other robots will make short work of this custom of his."  
  
"I'm glad to see that you enjoy thinking out loud," said Dr. Sloth mildly. Fyora seemed to smoke for a minute, glaring down at Dr. Sloth with daggers of hatred. Slowly, she sat down in her chair hard, her eyes narrowed into mere slits. The elderliness did not seem to return-the anger seemed to almost be beneficial for her system.  
  
Garoo took the papers from Fyora's clutching hands, reading over the form. "It seems to all check out, ma'am," she said politely, regarding to Fyora. Fyora looked up at Garoo, glared, and then looked back at the forms which Garoo had cautiously placed in front of her. She read down the information sheet, and then nodded stiffly, a sadistic smile spreading across her face. Picking up the pen, she began to scribble in something on the bottom, handing it to Garoo.  
  
"Yes. Approved. Send it to be processed," said Fyora, not looking at Garoo while she spoke to her, but rather straight at Dr. Sloth. Mitsuko shifted her weight uncomfortably, keeping silent. There seemed to be something below the surface that she didn't quite understand at the time being. "Do you have a messenger robot?" asked Fyora, staring hard at Dr. Sloth. He began to answer no, but Mitsuko cut in for the first time.  
  
"Yes." Opening up her chest cavity, she pulled out the Buzz messenger that had formerly been Krishna's, flipping on the switch to turn it on. It gave a little cheery greeting, bouncing into the air and doing a little dance as well as playing a metallic-sounding tune. Mitsuko hit it on the head, causing it to fall silent. She pointed towards Fyora, and the Buzz followed her direction, floating over to Fyora.  
  
"We will send a message with this robot informing you when to awaken. You tardy arrivals always give us a hard time," growled Fyora, seeming a bit distracted by the miniature Buzz in the air that seemed to content its simple mind by prancing around heads. "Annoying little thing," she muttered bitterly, swatting at it in the air as if it were an irritating fly. "I never enjoyed machines much. . ."  
  
"Ironic that you lead the RBT," commented Dr. Sloth, rolling his eyes.  
  
"I don't lead the RBT-I think you know very well who does," smirked Fyora. "Now, depart, kindly. WE have a whole line to deal with."  
  
"Good-bye, Miss Fyora. Good-bye, my commander," said Dr. Sloth shortly. Mitsuko turned Dr. Sloth's wheelchair around before things could get ugly between the doctor and the faerie queen, Fyora looking about to explode with pent-up rage, the poor water faerie doing all that she could to calm the nerves of her queen.  
  
Heading back towards Dr. Sloth's house, having to wrack up a bit more energy to get the wheels through the sand, Mitsuko found herself speaking again. It was unlike her to speak so frequently, but around the doctor she felt her tongue suddenly loosen, as if she had no control over herself anymore.  
  
"Who was that Blumaroo?"  
  
"A former commander of mine-name's Garoo. Everybody was convinced that she was a male; I guess she was comfortable with that, because she never told anybody otherwise," Dr. Sloth answered, shrugging. "Some people would just rather be seen in a different way than they really are. . .although I have to admit, Garoo was rather masculine anyway."  
  
Mitsuko didn't say anything after that, continuing to wheel Dr. Sloth home, staring at the indents in the sand, knowing instinctively the way home. It was beginning to become dark already, the long having taken so long, although it had seemed so short in Mitsuko's mind. The sun sank red below the horizon, Dr. Sloth seeming to relax more into his wheelchair, leaning his head backwards and looking up at the sky, changing colors before his eyes. He took off his glasses and wiped them on the hem of his shirt, placing them back on the end of his nose.  
  
"I must say, Mitsuko. . .I too am worried about your survival in the RBT. Dr. Krishna is a good man, yes. . .I would try to save him as well. But. . .I would've suggested a less sentient robot. . ."  
  
"I will be fine, doctor."  
  
"Perhaps. But your competition is nowhere as easy as the Battle Faerie-and can't be taken down with tranquilizer guns."  
  
"You're beginning to sound like Phil, doctor. I thought you were going to help me."  
  
"Oh, I still am. I'm not one to drop out of something I've started. Still.maybe Phil wanted you to stay out because he cared for your safety? Because he was afraid of losing-" Dr. Sloth's mouth suddenly shut, the doctor straightening up in the wheelchair, as if uncomfortable.  
  
"Losing what?"  
  
"Never mind, I've spoken too much," consoled Dr. Sloth, shaking his head. "Just be careful."  
  
"No worries."  
  
As they arrived at Dr. Sloth's house, he announced that he would be retiring early to his dormitories-he claimed that he needed extra sleep in order to be a sponsor for a competing robot in the RBT. Phil had apparently remained at the dwelling the entire day, as Mitsuko found him tidying up the kitchen after a meal. Upon Mitsuko's arrival, a smile cracked across his face, somewhat sad, the two of them standing alone in the kitchen. "How was it?"  
  
"Nothing happened, if that's what you're asking. The competition hasn't started yet."  
  
"Of course not," said Phil, dipping his hands into a bucket of water to wash them off. Reaching for a towel, he wiped off his hands and his face. "You're a late arrival, but you'll still make it in, being you're a custom. Just hope that they don't place you with the massive wave of lesser robots against all the heavyweights-there's only eight left standing after that battle, and not a single one of those lesser robots put into the large horde has ever survived past that round."  
  
"It doesn't matter what happens to me. As long as I can say that I've tried to help Dr. Krishna, I will be satisfied to be reduced to scrap metal," stated Mitsuko, her words valiant. Inside, however, a cowardliness crept into her stomach-she pushed it aside immediately. She had no time to be afraid.  
  
Phil blinked, looking at her with some kind of admiration, mixed with a bit of regret, molding his usual smile into a sorrowful one. "Well.good luck, I guess," he said, sighing, offering her the best smile he could muster. Placing the towel back on the proper rack, he shook off any excess water and began heading for the door. "I've gotta get back to my place.make sure I haven't had any thefts. Fat chance that'd happen," he snorted, crossing the living room to the door, Mitsuko following after him slightly, though stopped in the middle of the living room.  
  
"Phil?" Mitsuko called after him just as he was about to take off into the sky, tying his shawl around his throat. Phil stopped, turning around to look at Mitsuko.  
  
"Hmmm? There something the matter?" asked Phil, cocking his head. In the dying light, he looked faintly handsome, though perhaps Mitsuko wasn't the best judge of looks.  
  
". . .Will you come tomorrow? To see me fight?"  
  
A pause grew between the two, seeming to grip at Mitsuko's artificial lungs, threatening to halt her breathing. Phil's face displayed a war waging within, but one side was obviously winning over the other. His head gradually began to shake a no, the hand around Mitsuko's lungs seeming to grip into a fist, crushing her heart alongside her lungs, Phil's words the nail in her coffin. ". . .No. I'm sorry. . .I'm busy tomorrow."  
  
Without saying so much as good-bye, he leapt into the air, taking off into the pallet of colors known as the sky, laced with threatening storm clouds. Mitsuko raced to the door, hoping to stop him, but unable to get there in time-as soon as she was at the door, all she could do was look up at the silhouette of Phil hanging in the sky, looping once around Dr. Sloth's house and then flying away sharply, leaving her alone in the doorway. 


	8. Battle

"There's a conflict inside of me, raging day and night. I know I'm just a robot. . .but inside. . .it feels like I can be more."  
  
"You can be, Rose. . .you are not merely programming, you know."  
  
"But I don't want to be vulnerable. . .I've seen what other sentient beings have done to each other. When they get close, they only hurt one another deeper and deeper. I'm afraid."  
  
"Safety is something we must sacrifice in order to truly live."  
  
Mitsuko found consciousness within the buzzing of metallic wings, as well as a song-and-dance number occurring before her head. Opening an eye, she tried to swat the Buzz away from her face, only to remember that the Buzz messenger was to inform them of the time they were to depart for Sakhmet City's center. She was immediately alert, clearing all grogginess from her mind, blinking hard to get her programming fully functioning for consciousness. Standing up from the couch, she rushed over to the room where Dr. Sloth slept, the Buzz following after her, singing the message mindlessly in an imitation of Fyora's voice.  
  
"Frank!"  
  
She burst through his door, shaking the man from his sleep. Grumbling something about reckless young Neopets, Dr. Sloth reached blindly for his glasses, missing on his first few tries and succeeding on his fourth. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he put on his glasses, turning his attention towards Mitsuko.  
  
"What's the matter? Is the house burning?"  
  
"No. We must leave. The message has arrived." Dr. Sloth looked up to the Buzz that sung and danced in the air obliviously happily, fixing his glasses.  
  
"Indeed," he replied dully. "Shut that thing off, will you? I'll get dressed-you can go eat some breakfast if you feel the need."  
  
Mitsuko obliged, grabbing the Buzz from the air and snapping it off, the messenger going limp in her hands. She placed it back inside of her chest cavity and walked out of the room, not thinking twice to ask whether Dr. Sloth needed help to get clothed. It was obvious that he had lived alone, and must have had some way to make up for the loss of his legs. She didn't feel she needed breakfast, however-she merely checked the place where she had been stabbed, hoping that the patchwork would hold up. Dr. Sloth hadn't found the time to reinforce the wound.  
  
As soon as Dr. Sloth wheeled out of the door, Mitsuko grabbed the handle bars of his wheelchair and steered him towards the door, not pausing to allow him to eat breakfast. Her internal clock told her that it was much later than the actual arriving time, as well as the tension that she had experienced between Dr. Sloth and Fyora the other day. Dr. Sloth gripped to the arm rests as they charged through the door, his face clearly displaying shock.  
  
"You know, I was planning to at least have some coffee!" shouted Dr. Sloth, sand kicking up around them as Mitsuko sped forward, nearly lifting from the ground, even thinking about putting her boosters to good use.  
  
"There's no time for that-we're late," replied Mitsuko. Sure enough, as they looked forwards, the bustle of people in the center of Sakhmet City was at an all-time high, the loudspeakers blasting through the crowd's shouting. Above the arena, now decorated with rows of hanging ivy, illusions of waterfalls and bright, flashing lights, were bands of faeries, monitoring the action below, breaking up fights when they broke out among those placing bets. These images became increasingly larger as Mitsuko and Dr. Sloth rushed closer and closer, Mitsuko showing no sign of slowing.  
  
"Mitsuko, don't worry about me! You're the one who should be rushing- the sponsors don't really need to be there unless they're going to be coaching on the sidelines!" informed Dr. Sloth, shouting for the wind rushing past them muffled his voice. "Besides, I'm not very comfortable at this speed!"  
  
"Very well."  
  
Mitsuko came skidding to a stop, Dr. Sloth nearly flying out of the wheelchair, Mitsuko just barely catching him to place him back in the seat. The doctor coughed, shaking his head and smoothing what little hair he had, which was ruffled from the speed they had been traveling at. Mitsuko barely managed a farewell before she was up into the air, increasing her speed drastically as she used her boosters to launch herself towards the center of Sakhmet, slowing above the line of robot slowly filing in, dropping down into their ranks.  
  
Her arrival was hardly noticed, and quickly Mitsuko realized that she was among what Phil had called the 'lesser robots'-those that would not survive past the first round. Frantically, she tried to push her way out of their horde, but found her efforts futile-they were like a metal wall, impossible to push through. She was forced into their so-called line, being compressed into smaller lines as they got closer to a podium, the sides roped off by twine. In no time, she was pushed in front of the podium, a Gelert with a half an ear addressing her, seeming to be the one marking off names.  
  
"Model number and casual name?"  
  
"1748 and Mitsuko. But-"  
  
"Here you are," exclaimed the Gelert, cutting her off. "May I ask where your sponsor. . .Frank Sloth is?"  
  
"He's coming. . .slowly. But-"  
  
"Alright," commented the Gelert dismissively, marking something off on his sheet. "NEXT!"  
  
Before she knew what was happening, she was shoved back into the chaos of the lesser robots. It baffled her to learn that her name had been on the list of those who would be broken into bits-but as she reflected upon it, it didn't really surprise her, as well as the late warning given by the messenger Buzz. Fyora had set her up well-she had placed her among those who would undoubtedly perish, hoping that she would be dragged down with them.  
  
Fuming inside, she opened her chest cavity, seeing that other robots were taking out their weapons as well as putting on somewhat flimsy-looking armor. She reached deep into her chest cavity, searching for a weapon. To her surprise, her hands did not land on the messenger Buzz first, who would be no more good than a Stone Snowball within the confines of the tournament- instead, she felt the coldness of a metal hilt. Pulling it out, she found that it was the hilt of the Battle Faerie's sword upon closer inspection. The blade was absent, and for a moment her heart fell, knowing that a hilt would be just as useless as the messenger Buzz-but in an instant, the great white blade retracted, showing its full potential.  
  
"Not bad," she whispered to herself, eyeing the blade with admiration, even if it had served as a weapon for the enemy. She wondered whether she would need to know magic to shoot water from its tip-still, hacking and slashing worked for her as well.  
  
The crowd, including Mitsuko, was ushered, or rather pushed roughly, into a dark waiting room, a large door at the end of the corridor, the walls made of stone. The voice from a loudspeaker flowed into the area which was quickly packed with more and more robots, Mitsuko finding it impossible not to touch at least one robot, and soon found herself smashed against the back of a robotic Skeith, and not one with a particularly pleasant odor.  
  
From outside, she could hear the roar of crowds, as well as the announcement of names. These, she realized, must have been what Phil had called the 'heavyweights': those that were famous and could easily crush the army-like numbers of lesser robots. There was about fifty names called on the loudspeaker, at least of what Mitsuko could hear-each followed by a boom of applause and shouts of encouragement from those who had bet on the particular robot, and boos from those who hadn't. Finally, there was a loud announcement, followed by shoves of greater intensity and the loud roaring of the crowds. Through it all, however, she could hear a single voice, a soft hand on her shoulder.  
  
"The message. . .you have it, don't you?"  
  
Looking back to see who had touched her, Mitsuko found herself gazing down at a stunningly familiar robot-one with a Kiko form. His face screen was still cracked, but facial features were somewhat discernable; the only visible difference from when she had last seen him among the wreckage of other robots from RARE was that he now held a wooden shield and sword.  
  
"Kummer?"  
  
But there was no time for chatting, or recognizing old comrades. She felt a great shove, and suddenly she was stumbling forwards along with the rest, out of their relative safety of the dark corridor and into the terrible brilliance of the light. She squinted against the sudden adjustment in light, holding her arm over her eyes. The dust being kicked up from the robots around her also made it difficult to see, the dust getting into her eyes as well as her body parts, making it temporarily difficult for her to move. Coughing a bit, she looked up into the crowds, searching for his face although she knew she wouldn't be able to find it, even if he was there. Reality did not differ from her prediction-the crowds were too thick, and Phil's will was too strong.  
  
"FIGHT!"  
  
The word cut through the noise like a knife through butter, reaching all ears in a mile radius. In a split second, everything changed from relative chaos of a churning crowd to something much worse: utter loss of control.  
  
Mitsuko could feel, smell and sense attacks aiming at her from all angles, from her own comrades, not to mention long-range missile assault from the heavyweights, who seemed to be standing in the middle, waiting for the lesser robots to pick each other off until only the strongest were left for them to eliminate. Instantly, the programming embedded within Mitsuko's consciousness kicked in, sparking through her body. With hardly her willing, her arm swung and the blade of the Battle Faerie blocked multiple attacks without leaving so much as a dent on its legendary metal.  
  
Realizing that she was submerged in a crowd of complete anarchy, she embraced the spirit, gripping the hilt of her sword. Firing up her boosters, she hovered a few inches above the ground, slashing away attacks with great sweeps of the sword. Holding her weapon in front of her, the edge of the blade facing forward instead of the tip, she shot forwards, leaving in her wake a line of destructed robotic parts, putting many robots out of commission early into the game. She was too fast for their meager attacks-even the better 'lesser' robots had a difficult time keeping up with her speedy rounds through the crowds, Mitsuko generating plenty of material for the junkyard.  
  
Her streak of disaster, however, could not last forever, and she knew this as soon as she felt the Yellow Snowball strike her in the side of the face, making her tumble to the ground amid a flock of angry robots, disliking the apparent advantage that she had over them. They circled her like hungry vultures, all seeming to want to get a piece of the well- designed newbie. Memories of the occurrence in the part shop in Krishna's town fluttered into her mind, and without hesitation she jumped to her feet, looking around at her opponents with a wild grin on her face, almost giddy from the exhilaration of abolishing her enemies.  
  
She took down half of them with a single blow from her weapon, swinging it like a baseball bat, taking down a good portion of them. The rest of the robots descended upon her, a pack of wolves after an elk. Shooting up into the air, she did a back flip in the air and shot back down upon them, kicking a few to the ground, forcing them to eat the sand, and bashing others with her sword, sending many onto the ground, never to function for the remainder of the tournament. There were still many left, however, and the lesser robots seemed to be attracted to her now, as if sensing that they just might be able to take down one of their superiors if they all collaborated in a single effort. Seeing this only proved to make Mitsuko more excited, the Shoyru instinctively letting out a war whoop of joy, plunging into the crowds of robots.  
  
She raced down into their ranks among them, speeding through them as a swimmer cut through water. Many of them dared hit her, and for that she replied with a whack of her hard metal tail, which flailed behind her, knocking many weak robots out. As one large Lupe robot stepped in front of her path, she rolled forwards, springing off of her arms into a back flip, catapulting over his head, stabbing through the mechanisms in his back simultaneously, the Lupe falling behind her. Almost landing on her feet, but activating her boosters just in time, she flew upwards just to temporarily see how many foes she had left to eliminate. She had cut down the crowd to about a quarter of their original amount, and there was still civil wars within the crowd. The heavyweights were beginning to join in on the action, reducing the crowd for her even more until she had only twenty left to finish off.  
  
Rocketing back down, she slammed into the remainder of the lesser robots with all of her body weight, slamming many to the ground. They were the strongest of the weak, however, and weren't about to go down just with a hard shove. Brushing themselves off and getting to their feet, they fired a variety of elemental attacks from impressive weapons. Mitsuko fell back, holding up the Battle Faerie's sword to take the heat of the attacks, reflecting some back at their owner's, causing them to reel backwards, even knocking some out of the tournament altogether.  
  
Hollering a cry of victory, she charged at the lesser robots, blade held forth, point facing them. She skewered two of them on the end of the blade, and swung the blade to the side with her victims still attached, causing them to slam into the rest of their comrades, knocking them all to the ground. While they lay stunned, taking a while to regain their wits, Mitsuko flew high into the air and pointed the blade's tip downwards, preparing to finish them off with one mighty sweep of her blade. The blade, though, had different plans.  
  
It began to rattle in her hands, as if it had a mind of its own. For a fearful moment, she was afraid she would drop it, losing her only weapon. She kept a better grip, wondering what was happening to the blade, hoping that it wouldn't break. Without warning, a long stream of water shot from the tip of the blade, immersing the remaining lesser robots, freezing after all of them were sufficiently wet, rendering them unable to fight, encased within a layer of ice.  
  
Mitsuko landed on the ground, catching her breath momentarily, holding the sword at her side. The heavyweights, some of them already knocked out because of infighting, gazed over to her, grins spreading across their faces. A large Jetsam robot approached her in an almost civil manner. Mitsuko kept on guard, not trusting a single robot in the arena.  
  
"Thank you, strongest of the weak, for finishing off our opponents. Now, we shall do the same for you!"  
  
In an instant, Mitsuko found that she was being assaulted by many assorted weapons, all reaching out for her like horrible arms, mechanical arms. Somewhere in her memory she could remember being chased as such-but she had no time to reflect. She raced away from where she had been standing, just barely avoiding destruction. Unfortunately, she found that some of their weapons were blessed (or cursed, rather) with the ability to pursue, some of them managing to catch up with her and hitting her hard, knocking her to the ground. A loud roar of approval from the crowd sounded, cheering against the little Shoyru robot.  
  
Panting, struggling to get up from the ground, she lifted her head and glared. "That's where you're wrong, scum," she growled, and shot upwards in the blink of an eye, any attacks aimed at her missing from her sheer speed. Hanging up high for a moment, she then tilted downwards, stooping like a mad Pteri falcon going at a flushed pheasant. The Jetsam hardly knew what hit him-when he looked down, he discovered that he was in two pieces instead of one, his head slowly toppling over to the side, red eyes blinking out of existence.  
  
"Get the Shoyru!" shrieked a voice from the heavyweights, but they didn't need directions. Those that could fly took to the air after her, their heavy wings clanking, not allowing them much height. Mitsuko panicked and fled, a line of aerial robots following after her. She managed to regain her head in the air, able to keep out of their clutches for long enough to think through a plan in her mind.  
  
Mitsuko dove downwards suddenly, turning so that she flew on her back, underneath the bellies of the robotic Neopets, too slow to react to her sudden change in direction. She was at the end of the line in no time, the line ending with a rather hefty Skeith, struggling to stay in the air. She shot up over him and then relaxed her boosters, falling onto his back like a cowboy mounting his horse.  
  
The Skeith began to freak out, bucking and whipping around in the air. Mitsuko cut off his arms, filled with weapons, and grabbed his helmet, pulling it over her face and giving a roar like a barbarian. She stabbed her sword downwards into the Skeith's head, damaging his hard drive beyond repair. The Skeith dropped, and Mitsuko detached from her former mount, following onto the next in line, beginning to steal weaponry and armor of her victims.  
  
The leader of the line in the air was beginning to loop around, hoping to catch up with Mitsuko at the end. Increasing in speed, the other Shoyru robot that headed the line caught up with Mitsuko, currently on the back of a robotic Eyrie. He grinned, seeing that she was unsuspecting, and lunged at her to knock her off of her mount. He erred in predicting how alert Mitsuko was, however-and soon found himself crashing hard into the Eyrie, the two tangling themselves up and making themselves vulnerable to Mitsuko's attack. She cut them down from the air, knocking them out of commission, snatching their weapons as they tumbled from the air.  
  
Looking at some of the weapon she had snatched up, she discovered a bottle with the markings of a twister on its side. An idea sparked in her head, and she grinned deviously, shoving some of the weapons into her chest cavity. Uncorking the bottle, she dumped its contents onto the ground, directly next to the robots on the ground. Those in the air headed towards her, unaware of what was about to happen.  
  
From the ground, a cyclone began to form, rising from the ground and into the air, colored tan from the sand on the ground. The cries of robots being sucked into the tornado could be heard all around, especially those in the air-even Mitsuko, firing her boosters against the tornado's current, found it difficult to resist the force of the twister. All on the ground were unfortunate enough to be sucked in as well to the circling tornado of robot bodies, crashing against each other and denting their bodies. Dazed and confused robots fired off their weapons, making the tornado even more hazardous. The audience was either deadly silent or were screaming, but sound muffled by the howling of the intense wind.  
  
Soon, the tornado died down, Mitsuko landing on the ground. She was battered and dented, and the wound in her stomach was leaking slightly, but other than that, she was in surprisingly good condition for having just fended off an entire army of robots supposedly superior to her. Around her lay the bodies of her enemies, and she removed the Grundo helmet that the late Skeith had worn, fitting it underneath her arm, standing straightly and proud, flaring her wings.  
  
The crowd was silent for a moment, as if disbelieving that a robot that had originally been of the lesser class could possibly even stand victor against the rest of the robot. Then, they broke into peals of applause, louder than anything Mitsuko had ever heard, booming through her ears. She lifted her sword, not the Battle Faerie's, into the air in a stance of triumph, knowing that this part of the tournament was, thank the Heavens, over.  
  
Robot medics, so to speak, ran out onto the arena in an effort to find any robots that would still be in commission enough for the final eight. Six were found that were only dazed and not defeated-one was missing. The robot medics gave a look to one another, nervous, supporting the robots that they had found functioning and able to compete in the final eight.  
  
"It seems there are only six left. . .what will they do?!" announced the loudspeaker.  
  
Mitsuko's eyes wandered to what looked like a box seat in the audience, a large room in the midst of common folk surrounded by thick curtain, masking whomever was inside of it. As she stared at it, the curtains were suddenly drawn aside. Stepping out from inside of the curtain- covered enclosure came a feminine form, curvy and from what Mitsuko could make out, somewhat attractive, for a faerie, at least. There was something wrong with her, however-she couldn't make it out from the long distance, however, and contented herself to watch the faerie, holding what seemed to be some kind of metal rope that trailed inside of the boxed off area. She took a deep breath, and began to speak, her voice loud despite not being magnified by any device that Mitsuko could see.  
  
"Worry not, my subjects!" she cried, her voice booming and inspiring, alighting the hearts of many. "All has been arranged and foreseen by our many great faerie seers. There are seven remaining-I myself will supply the appropriately matched eighth."  
  
Approval was sounded by the audience, and the robotic medics began to usher out those who remained standing. Mitsuko found herself taken by the arm by one of them, roughly pulling her to the exit. She followed, but looked behind her shoulder. Large machines, almost like dump trucks, rolled from the side of the arena into the center, beginning to scoop up the scrap metal littered through the arena. Among those robots which would eventually be picked from the pile and identified by their owners, Mitsuko knew there was Kummer, the deranged Kiko robot said to be Neopets Version 2. (Whatever that was.) His constant prodding of her for some kind of message disturbed her greater than she would ever let on, leaving her uneasy inside.  
  
But she didn't have to think about Kummer now. She had won, in a sense, and would be moving onto the next round, making history in the progress, the very first of the lesser robots to remain in the final eight. Lucky, perhaps, because of the bottled tornado, but she had survived. She was that much closer to rescuing Krishna from captivity.  
  
The robotic medics led her into a subdivision of the arena, which was basically a small building used for repairing and fixing up the final eight. Her opponents for the next rounds were brought into their own rooms, accompanied by the robotic medic (which would usually run off to inform the sponsor of the robot of their victory) as well as at least one faerie. These faeries, however, were different-their wrists were enclosed in shackles, and they were dragged about by a healthier looking faerie, themselves looking old and tired.  
  
'Slaves. . .' Mitsuko thought to herself, barely noticing as she was pushed into a room. The door was closed, leaving Mitsuko alone, the robotic medic most likely running off to inform Dr. Sloth of Mitsuko being in the final eight. Idly, Mitsuko sat down on the only article of furniture in the room-a bed. She was a bit short for it, and her feet dangled down like a little child on an adult's chair. To kill time, she searched over her body for any particular areas of damage, finding that the reopened 'wound' in her torso was suffering the worst.  
  
The door opened after a moment, and Mitsuko's head snapped up. Into the room was dragged two slaves, bound to one another by a chain link, the end held by a vicious-looking fire faerie. She threw down the leash end of the shackles and snorted. "Tidy up this robot nicely-she'll need it for tomorrow." With those cold words, the fire faerie exited, slamming the door behind herself.  
  
Mitsuko looked at the two slaves before her, blinking. The first was an Earth faerie, apparent by her scraggly auburn hair, glowing green eyes, green, leaf-like wings and ripped green dress. She was slumped over and looked older than any other faerie Mitsuko had ever seen, and much more miserable, a hopeless, mindless smile on her face. The next was jarringly familiar, and was, unlike many other faeries, male, his head bowed downwards, showing her the top of his dirty green hair. He lacked wings, which also lightened something in Mitsuko's mind, making her stomach drop. The Earth faerie began to get to work immediately, but the other faerie was slow to respond, seeming unwilling to work. The Earth faerie elbowed him harshly, a frown on her face.  
  
"Come now, Mr. Krishna. . .this robot needs our aid."  
  
At the mention of his name, the faerie seemed to snarl, glaring at his partner. Mitsuko, however, was taken aback, nearly hitting the Earth faerie in the face by the sudden jerk coursing through her body.  
  
"Dr. Krishna!"  
  
The faerie looked up dully, and indeed, Mitsuko recognized the face instantly, refreshing the image of him in her mind, though in many ways, she wished she hadn't seen him like this. His hair had grown out long and filthy, and his fair skin looked burned and bruised. His wrists were raw from the shackles, and on his chest was displayed a foreign symbol, quite obviously burned into his skin by some kind of brand. But what struck Mitsuko the most were his crimson eyes-they lacked any kind of pupil, and seemed empty and unintelligent, quite unlike the Krishna Mitsuko remembered.  
  
"Yes, ma'am?" he replied, his voice a disinteresting monotone.  
  
"Dr. Krishna, it's me, Mitsuko. Are you okay?"  
  
"I don't know anybody named Mitsuko," he answered, blinking, his expressionless face hardly twitching. "I certainly don't know any robots."  
  
"What are you talking about? This body here-you made it. How can't you recognize it?"  
  
"I don't make machines, I repair them. I'm just a servant."  
  
"You'll have to forgive the halfling, dear," piped up the Earth faerie, her voice understanding as she began to work on the dents on Mitsuko's body. "I'm sure you do know him from the past-sadly, he won't recognize you."  
  
"And why is this?"  
  
"He was a bit.resistant to the Empress Tahora's orders. It figures-he was a scientist, after all. The Empress Tahora has a binding spell on him- she has it on many other slaves as well. It keeps them obedient and quiet- virtually wipes their memory clean too."  
  
"Forever?"  
  
"Well, until the spell ends. It's not an easy spell to break." Mitsuko set her jaw, grasping Krishna suddenly by the cheeks, pulling his emotionless face towards hers.  
  
"Dr. Krishna. I know you're in there somewhere. Answer me," demanded Mitsuko, staring him straight in the eye. It was difficult to look him in the eye, however, for there was no pupil to stare into. Her chest cavity popped open without her willing, the messenger Buzz suddenly jumping from the compartment, seeming to have activated itself.  
  
"Return to sender, return to sender, I've been returned to my sender!" sang the little messenger Buzz, circling around Krishna's head. Mitsuko ignored him, swatting the Buzz, who deactivated. She shoved him back into her chest cavity quickly.  
  
"Fight the spell," she insisted to Krishna, trying to find the Krishna she knew inside of those empty eyes.  
  
"Please. You're scaring me," said Krishna, hardly sounding frightened, moving her arms so he could work on her framework.  
  
"Don't try and contact with him-it'll only confuse him. Besides, you're lucky that the Empress Tahora let you see him at all-he's become like a little lap dog to him. I guess she enjoys humiliating half-breeds like him," said the Earth faerie with a shrug. "Anyway, where'd you get this injury from? It will take the robotic medic to fix this injury."  
  
"I had a run in with a weapon. . .it makes my gas tank leak."  
  
"So I've noticed." The Earth faerie continued to socialize pleasantly, but obviously she was ordered to be amiable and talk on less controversial subjects. Mitsuko hardly even noticed as the robotic medic came back in and began fixing the wound on her stomach. Her eyes were focused on Krishna, just staring at him. He didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't seem to care. She knew that the one week where he repaired her was gone in his mind-she knew that he couldn't remember her, but he wanted him to. After all, he was the whole reason she was even doing this after all. For the man who had repaired her, who had taken her from a junkyard. For the man who was so terribly alone in his own secluded little place.  
  
Maybe that's why she had to save him now. To buy him off of that Empress Tahora, to demand his release from the spell. To renew his memory. Yes, that would allow her to keep fighting on for her purpose-maybe she wouldn't be able to achieve it, but she had to try. She had to try and free Dr. Krishna, in her mind her father, from the captivity she knew that he would hate. She had to try. 


	9. Carbon Copy

"I hate to say it, Mitsuko, but I had my doubts that you would survive," commented Dr. Sloth, taking a swig of a small shot glass of cheap whiskey. "I just barely got there in time, too-impressive programming you've got there."  
  
"I suppose," replied Mitsuko, hardly listening. They were back at Dr. Sloth's house, the final matching occurring the next day. She stirred the gruel with her finger idly, not hungry. Of course, in all honesty, she was never really hungry, but she generally at least enjoyed the sensation of eating food. Now, however, her stomach felt full, although her soul empty- she had seen the unfortunate truth of what had happened to Krishna, and across the table from her sat Phil, eating silently. He looked happy enough, but he would usually be bubbling with words on the subject they were on.  
  
"Yeah. Congratulations," said Phil with a faint smile, quickly returning to his food, as if to switch the subject in his mind.  
  
"Thank you," she answered, her voice emotionless, staring down at the grayish food. Dr. Sloth seemed unconcerned about her lack of feeling-in fact, he looked as if he hardly noticed, a smile spreading across his face from a combination of the alcohol and the victory of Mitsuko. He had long since finished his supper, and began to wheel out of the kitchen, the smile still stuck on his face.  
  
"Better go check on that faerie. . .in the lab. . .yeah. . ." muttered Dr. Sloth, slightly deranged, crashing into a door as he tried to get out of the room.  
  
"The doctor has trouble holding alcohol," snickered Phil, scraping off the remains of his gruel. "Heck, back when in the day, he could torture his liver silly, but lately. . .well, it effects him real quick." Mitsuko nodded, not really wanting to discuss Dr. Sloth's ability to get drunk hastily. Phil seemed to notice the worried expression on her face, a ray of hope flickering on his face. "What's the matter? Stressed for tomorrow's match?"  
  
"No. That's the least of my concerns," Mitsuko said, shaking her head. "It's about Dr. Krishna."  
  
"What about 'im?"  
  
"I saw him today."  
  
"Awesome! Then we know that he's actually with the faeries. Should be easier to rescue him then."  
  
"Yeah. . .he's alive, at least. But. . .he doesn't remember me. And he's not like he used to be. That empress faerie. . .what's her name. . .Tahora. . .she put some sort of 'binding' spell on him. It makes me wonder. . .if it's even worth fighting." She didn't know why she was telling Phil this-she knew that he would stop at anything to stop her from competing in the RBT further. She regretted telling him at first, beginning to amend herself. Phil stopped her, though, placing his warm hand on hers, as if to reassure her.  
  
"Dr. Krishna matters a lot to you, doesn't he?"  
  
". . .Yes. I think so. I don't think I would be fighting for anything else."  
  
"Then you can't stop now. You've gotten yourself into the RBT for the purpose of saving him-and now that you've seen what happened to him, you're regretting your decision. But don't turn back on what you decided-that's not the Mitsuko that I know. Turning around now would be against everything that represents you; you're a fighter, Mitsuko. And maybe if you buy off Dr. Krishna. . .maybe you can make him remember, or the spell will be lifted."  
  
Mitsuko looked deep into Phil's eyes, remembering Dr. Sloth's words. She knew that Phil couldn't possibly want her to continue fighting-she knew that he was totally against the RBT. But he seemed honest enough about wanting her to keep going, to keep with what she had started. She curved her lips upwards into a smile, Phil joining her in the happy expression. She put her other hand over his, grasping it tightly.  
  
"Thank you, Phil," she said softly, clutching his hand. They continued to look into each other's eyes, as if transfixed, hardly noticing that their heads were migrating closer together. For a moment, Mitsuko was convinced that she understood everything about Phil, what made him tick, and just how sweet he was, how.perfect. She tilted her head to the side slightly, closing her eyes, wondering in the back of her mind what, exactly, was she doing? In the front of her mind, however, she knew exactly what she was doing, what she wanted at this moment more than anything else in the world, even more than Krishna's release. She could feel the warmth of Phil's face coming closer to hers, and she welcomed it, a tingling spreading throughout her body.  
  
But instead of receiving what she thought she would, she could feel the warmth migrating away from her face, another hand enclosing hers. Opening her eyes, she looked at Phil in astonishment, his face seeming so far away from hers. His smile was excruciatingly sad, striking emotional pain through her body, the feeling of rejection creeping into her chest.  
  
"No. I'm sorry. . .I can't. . .make the same mistake twice."  
  
Phil let go of her hands and departed from the kitchen, leaving Mitsuko desperately alone, there to sit and stare at her hands, to ponder upon what had just happened. Before, underneath the moonlight, she had been the one who had rejected Phil-but now, underneath the artificial, dim light of the kitchen, it was she who had been rejected. A stabbing pain jutted through her body, not in her stomach, but in her chest. Her eyes felt extraordinarily moist, and as she moved her hand to her eyes and pulled it back, she found she was leaking oil from them, blinking hard, the oil rolling down her face.  
  
"What. . ." she mumbled to herself, staring at her blackened hand, ". . .what is happening to me?"  
  
"You're not yourself.please, I know you don't want to do this." whimpered the man, finding himself cornered on the wall, the woman approaching steadily, not quickening or slowing her pace towards him. The ball of energy her hand grew steadily larger, more threatening and powerful. Mitsuko watched from the sidelines, trapped, unable to move. After all, how could she move without a body?  
  
"I'm not?" The woman smirked. "Maybe I am now.and our whole affair has been a joke to me."  
  
"No. That's a lie.you're lying."  
  
"How can you tell? Can you?" The woman bent down, leaning close to his face. "No, you can't. You're lying yourself. You just don't want to come to the facts: I never loved you."  
  
"No.you're being controlled. Look in the mirror-look at your eyes! Your pupils."  
  
"Shut up. I grow tired of your whining."  
  
"You're not going to throw that energy ball."  
  
"How can you be sure?"  
  
"I can't. But I know you."  
  
"No, you don't."  
  
The man's scream of absolute agony wracked through Mitsuko's body.  
  
"And the winner is. . .Model 1748, Mitsuko!"  
  
The crowd's usual screams of approval made Mitsuko's body quiver from their absolute intensity. She looked at them apathetically, hardly caring that she had won against the robotic Skeith. Giving a little shrug of her shoulder, she removed the helmet that she wore normally in battle now, waving to the crowd a bit, not caring for their approval. She wanted only one's approval at this point, and she had failed to gain it. Even though she knew she was in the finals now, the mysterious eighth robot issued by the woman in the box her opponent, who Mitsuko had found to be the Empress Tahora by discussion with the Earth faerie that now regularly fixed her up, she could not help but feel rotted out inside, as if she contained nothing.  
  
As the robot medics carted out the limp figure of the battered and dismembered Skeith, a hush fell over the crowd. The final round was now about to commence, and Mitsuko would find out about her opponent, whom she had heard little about, despite the fact that it had won hands down each round. Both Mitsuko and her opponent had not had the courtesy of being repaired after their last match, so they would have even odds. All eyes wandered to the door that was directly across from Mitsuko, where undoubtedly her opponent would exit from.  
  
Mitsuko felt weary, but the programming wouldn't let her stop. She was leaking a bit from the wound, still not repaired to its fullest, but she had begun to ignore it, knowing that it wasn't leaking enough to potentially put her in danger. Straightening to her full height, she stared at the doorway, the stone gates slowly being pulled aside to allow her opponent passage. Tentatively, she waited.  
  
In an instant, a figure shot out of the dark opening, Mitsuko quickly regaining her guard. She didn't expect an attack right away-usually there was a command given before the first attack commenced. She was wrong, however, to let her guard down a little because of this presumption-because before she knew what was happening, her opponent, a mere blur in its swiftness, slammed into her stomach, making her fly backwards, tumbling into the sand. She could feel the patching on the wound over her stomach squeak and loosen, beginning to leak more. She could also taste sand in her mouth, and spat it out, looking up with bleary eyes which had also been affected by the sand.  
  
"Empress Tahora was right-a prototype like you will be no challenge for the actual product."  
  
As she blinked the sand out of her eyes, she was jarred to see that she was staring up at her very own face, hardly any difference, besides the fact they were bruised and had dirt in different places. There was one more difference as well-the plate on her forehead read "01" instead of "00." Rubbing her eyes, Mitsuko forced herself to stand up, not saying anything to her opponent. Indeed, even her body, which she knew was not her original body, was an exact replica of hers, except for the large hole in the center, dripping gasoline.  
  
Mitsuko pulled on the helmet, knowing that she would need it for this round more than any of the others. She also picked up her sword, holding it out towards the 01 clone of herself. Her 01 replica snorted indignantly, puffing out her chest, which had its share of injuries and beatings.  
  
"Feh! I don't need any weapons to beat a prototype like you," boasted the 01 clone, grinning devilishly. "I'll crush you into the dust with my bare hands alone."  
  
"FIGHT!"  
  
The word resonated through the middle of their conversation, catching Mitsuko off guard, having been concentrating on trying to figure out where a copy of herself could've come from, as well as why she kept calling Mitsuko a prototype. This unawareness allowed the copy to get in the first shot, head-butting into Mitsuko's vulnerable stomach, knocking her backwards. Mitsuko managed to keep her balance this tie, however, and answered her attack by grabbing the 01 model by her head and flipping her clear over her body. The crowd gave a gasp, 01 clattering to her back, but getting up in the blink of an eye.  
  
"No more free shots," snarled the 01 clone, and shot into the air. Mitsuko herself had done this many times before, to try and dive-bomb her opponents-so she followed suit, jetting up into the air. Mitsuko soon caught up with the 01 clone, who hung in the air, awaiting her arrival.  
  
"I bet you're wondering why I look exactly like you-thankfully, I have more than the personality of a sponge," scoffed the 01 clone, throwing her head up into the air haughtily.  
  
"I assume you have the answers," replied Mitsuko, staring at her hard.  
  
"It's simple-you know that little half-breed Dr. Krishna that you're fighting to reclaim? The Empress Tahora made him make me just like you, sans the pieces of organic brain, so that she would be able to eliminate that piece of crap Dr. Sloth." She was suddenly right before Mitsuko's face, holding her close, grinning madly. "Do you know how much your little Krishna screamed like a girl when Tahora tortured him? It was rich." Her laughter was as cold as ice, and just as chilling. "His halfling-ness makes him weak.just like your organic sentience makes you weak."  
  
Mitsuko clenched her teeth, feeling the fire of anger beginning to burn inside of her. "Never talk about Dr. Krishna like that!" Mitsuko wrapped her arms tightly around her clone, gripping her uncomfortably close to her body, reversing the direction in which they had been traveling, sending them spiraling downwards. They collided with the ground hard, but not hard enough to smash them up sufficiently enough, both jumping out of the impact on different sides, their skulls and other body parts dented badly.  
  
"Some attack-you fight like your little doctor!"  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
Mitsuko charged at her clone in an absolute rage, unable to allow her to say such things about people she cared about. She swung her sword expertly, but the 01 clone was simply too fast-she was behind her in a heartbeat, wrapping her arms around Mitsuko's neck. Mitsuko gave a groan, but stabbed between her legs and upwards, contacting the 01 clone's body. The clone gave a cry of surprise, releasing Mitsuko subconsciously. Mitsuko darted out of the way, making her body horizontal to the ground and firing her boosters, lowering her head and speeding towards her clone. She knicked the clone on the side, but 01 barely seemed effected. As Mitsuko came around for another pass, 01 jumped upwards and landed on Mitsuko's back expertly, riding her like a surfboard.  
  
"Heh-you're much too predictable, Mitsuko.but that's not your real name, is it?"  
  
"No-and what should you care?!" Mitsuko flipped upside down, attempting to shake off 01, but failing, 01 clutching to her wings and slamming them down to her back, consequently making her boosters disengage. Mitsuko tumbled to the ground, 01 jumping off just in time, engaging her boosters and landing softly on the ground. Mitsuko coughed, trying to get up, but finding 01 on top of her, grabbing her wings fiercely and ripping at them. Mitsuko cried out in pain and struck at 01 with her tail, but to no avail-with a horrifying rip and a dreadful bolt of pain, her wings were separated from her back, falling to the ground with a loud clank.  
  
Mitsuko did not give 01 the pleasure of her screaming in agony at the loss of her wings, but she did so internally, throwing her arms over her side and touching the disconnected wires where her wings used to be. Her knees buckled, and she clenched her teeth, eyes squeezed shut. She could feel the helmet being lifted from her head and the sound of it being thrown into the sand.  
  
"Pathetic," snickered 01, circling Mitsuko's body, her body periodically jerking with pain, the wires from her back snapping and crackling with electricity. "Your anger makes you weak. You care too much about those people.the former criminal Dr. Sloth, the weakling Dr. Krishna and.who else is there? Ah yes, that little pacifistic Desert Shoyru, Philokrates. You know what I'm going to do to him after I've finished you, 00? I'm going to find that Phil of yours.I'm going to kiss him, and do all of the things that you wanted to do with that weak organic half of yours. And then, take a guess upon what I'll do, 00. . .I'll kill him nice and slow, relishing in every moment of his whines and cries. . .I will so enjoy this. . ."  
  
Mitsuko felt as if she were on fire, set to explode. The pain in her shoulders seemed to vanish in her absolute hatred of her clone, the model numbered 01, and she shook with rage. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch," snarled Mitsuko, and suddenly lunged at 01 in a blind rage, swinging her sword wildly. 01, surprised, was forced to back up, many of the blows striking her on the chest, drawing oil from her chest. Mitsuko screamed at her, swearing and cursing, unable to think of anything else, managing to hack off one of 01's hands. 01 finally seemed to regain her wits, apparently seeing that Mitsuko was nothing more than a ball of rage, able to be stopped easily.  
  
01 leapt over Mitsuko, who began striking at thin air, too furious to even care that she wasn't hitting anything, just that she was getting her rage out on something, even if it was air. 01 once again grabbed Mitsuko by the throat, holding her in a head lock with the arm that lacked a hand, placing her hand over the plate on her forehead that read 00. "And so it ends," said 01, sneering, and pressed her fingers hard down on the metal plate, smashing it.  
  
Mitsuko immediately felt her brain go wild, turning into a mess of chaos and misfired signals. The plate on the front of her head, in all rights, had been what coordinated the thoughts between her organic brain and her programming. A flurry of random thoughts and phrases shot through her head, making it impossible to think. She had to concentrate hard to try and regain herself, having to control both halves of herself simultaneously, two halves that didn't especially like one another. 01 released Mitsuko from her grasps, and the robot tipped forwards, falling flat onto her face.  
  
"No! Suko!"  
  
The voice was barely tangible in Mitsuko's mind, but she managed to translate it, slowly moving her head so she could see where it was coming from, her head lying on the ground. The image coming towards her was fuzzy at first, but as she focused in on it as hard as she could manage, she could discern the figure of a Desert Shoyru heading towards her. She tried to move her lips, but they seemed as if they were stuck together. Letting her vision go, she concentrated on her lips. "Phil. . .?"  
  
"So this is your little Desert Shoyru, hmmm?" smirked 01, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Philokrates-your little custom lover is finished." Phil ignored her, bending down to Mitsuko, touching the side of her cheek. To Mitsuko, it felt like he was touching thousands of parts of her body simultaneously, but just the warmth of his fingers was enough.  
  
"Suko, can you hear me?"  
  
". . .Yes. . .I thought. . .you wouldn't come. . ."  
  
"I didn't come to the first one. . .but. . .I was worried about you. I didn't want to torture myself by seeing you like this. . .but. . .I had to come. . .it was like I didn't have a choice." Mitsuko could see the blurry visions of referees coming into the field to usher Phil off. She didn't want that in the least, and moved as much as she could, placing her hand on Phil's, or what she thought to be his hand.  
  
"It's. . .over. . ."  
  
"No, it's not! You can still beat this. . .this replica of you. You're the original-you're the one who came first!"  
  
"Am. . .I. . .?"  
  
"Am I what?"  
  
"Am. . .I. . .the one. . .you care for?"  
  
"Yes! Yes, I said I wouldn't do it again. . .I said I would never make a connection to a robot ever again. But. . .I can't. Yes, I care for you!"  
  
"Promise me. . ."  
  
"Promise you what?"  
  
"Do you promise. . .that you'll never. . .leave?"  
  
"Yes, anything you want, I'll give it to you! You just have to survive, Mitsuko! Please! If you die. . .I'd die with you. I wouldn't be able. . .I wouldn't be able to suffer life without you."  
  
"Enough of your sentimental spats-if she can still talk, then I haven't won. And as for you, Shoyru-" 01 grabbed Phil by the shawl suddenly, pulling him towards her and grasping his arm, clenching down on it like a vice. Phil gave a gasp of pain, his eyes bugging slightly. 01 pulled him close to her, grasping his throat, clenching it even harder than his wrist, fingertips digging into his flesh. Phil gave a choking nose, clutching at 01's hand, unable to break free. "Good-bye, little Shoyru."  
  
"No. . .good-bye, you dirty. . .carbon copy. . ."  
  
As soon as Mitsuko had said this, she suddenly retained her grasp on the hilt of her sword that had fallen into the sand. With a movement so quick for her current state, she swung the sword upwards, scarcely missing Phil in her blind, instinctive movements. The sword deftly cut through 01's framework, nearly splitting her opponent in half.  
  
For a moment, they were at a standstill, Phil still in the grasps of 01, whose expression was staring in astonishment at Phil's face, Mitsuko's arm trembling in the air, just barely able to keep the sword up. The moment quickly passed, however, and 01 suddenly let go of Phil, stumbling backwards. She fell backwards onto the ground, her eyes staring upwards blankly, clearing deactivated from the drastic injury that she had suffered. Phil gasped, drawing backwards, sucking in deep breaths of air, grabbing at his throat. Mitsuko dropped her weapon, letting her body temporarily grow limp on the ground.  
  
But it wasn't over yet. No. The victor was the last one standing, and still functioning-and though it was a mess of badly sent messages between machine and brain, Mitsuko was still functioning enough to move enough. Focusing as much as she could, she pushed her body upwards, shaking like a dead leaf in a furious wind. She felt like she would collapse at any second, but she forced herself to support herself. Slowly, she lifted her first leg, and then her other leg. With a push from her arms, she was up, wobbling slightly, rejecting the help that Phil offered. The crowd was absolutely silent, staring at the damaged robot, the unexpected victor.  
  
"The winner of this year's Robotic Battle Tournament-Model 1748, Mitsuko!"  
  
The audience's cheers of approval were deafening, to Mitsuko seeming to come in odd, disorganized spats. She did little more than just stand like a vegetable as robotic medics rushed up to her, putting a wreath of flowers around her neck and starting to pick her up in order to be repaired. As she felt herself being carried away, aware of the sensation of no longer having to keep herself upright, she reached her arm in the direction where she believed Phil to be, trying to grab him but only grasping air.  
  
"Phil. . .come. . ."  
  
At that moment, her circuits suddenly ceased functioning, rendering her body limp and useless, almost as bad as 01's body. Her consciousness stayed with her for little more than a few seconds, staring up blankly at the gray, dismal sky, looking about to rain. She could feel the oil dripping from her stomach, rolling down her body and onto the ground, leaving a trail behind those that carried her. If she could move her lips, she would've smiled-at that moment, everything seemed perfect, despite her broken and battered body. Soon, she would free Krishna, allow him to live as he pleased-and soon she would be with Phil again, able to express herself honestly. Yes, the spirit of happiness was flooding into her chest. It was unfortunate that she lost consciousness a moment after that, for that one instant of happiness would have to last her for the remainder of her life. 


	10. Captured

"No! Please, not my baby! You can do anything you want to me, but just don't take away my baby!"  
  
"I'm sorry. I truly am. But he has been corrupted."  
  
"No. . .no, he hasn't. You just think he has. . .you're delusional!"  
  
"No, I'm afraid you are the one that is delusional. And sadly, it is about it become even more so."  
  
"Phil. . .?"  
  
The words automatically sputtered from her mouth as Mitsuko awakened, her lips moving freely now, not jerking out of their own will from misfired electron messages. She wondered where she was, exactly, as the ceiling above her was not of one she remembered waking up to, such as Dr. Sloth's laboratory. No, this one was high and elegant, obviously belonging to someone of royalty or high-standing. The bed she lay on was not metallic, much to her relief, but comfortable, the weight of her body sinking deeply into the soft bed.  
  
Her body.  
  
She sat up quickly in the bed, immediately noticing that she could now voluntarily move without having to concentrate, as well as being able to think clearly without being disrupted by disturbing images of a past life she did not remember. Her body was fixed and shone, polished wonderfully. The hole in her stomach was virtually unnoticeable unless someone took the time to look hard at the wound. Feeling her forehead, the metal plate was completely fixed. Craning her neck so she could look behind herself, she was quite pleased to see her wings attached to her back nicely, appearing as if nothing had ever happened to them.  
  
"Is this real?" she mumbled to herself. It seemed like a dreamland she was in, everything repaired and perfect. Surely the harsh world she knew couldn't offer luxuries such as that.  
  
"Quite real, Primrose."  
  
The voice came from her side, and Mitsuko immediately snapped about, even though the voice did not mention her name. Sitting in the corner, nearly invisible from view as she blended in quite nicely with the darkness of the corner, was a female form, her voice familiar. It struck Mitsuko that it was the voice of the faerie who had emerged from the box to announce that she had the eighth robot ready-and thus, must've been the one that had entered the nearly-lethal 01 carbon copy of herself into the RBT. If Mitsuko had had fur, she would've bristled-her guard was up in a second.  
  
"Or Mitsuko, sorry. You don't have to get personal about it," sniffed the voice. There was another form next to the faerie, sitting like a dog next to her, but she couldn't quite make that one's detail out either, meshing into the darkness.  
  
"Personal? This has nothing to do with my name. I'm talking about that murderous clone of myself that you entered into the tournament. Did she destroy all of her opponents like that?"  
  
"No-she just had a disliking for someone with her face. Besides, she was programmed to destroy you in particular. Those other robots were just launching pads, experience, per say, in order to get to the final 'boss.' You, in this case. But that's in the past-she's been destroyed, and won't be coming back at any time. Especially since making another would involve taking the memory spell off dear Krishna.and I DO enjoy the company my little lap dog."  
  
"Your lap dog. . .? Then you must be. . ."  
  
"I am the Empress Tahora, indeed. Tahra is fine, though, for you."  
  
"Where is Dr. Sloth?"  
  
"Oh. Him." Her tone was dismal. "Collecting the prize money. God knows what he'll do with it. . .now there's a bad egg. Thank the faeries that you're in good hands now. . ."  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"What do I mean? I mean that you're my property now, Pri-Mitsuko. Well, technically, you always HAVE been, but you're memory's shady, and I don't want to shock you too soon, dearest."  
  
"Impossible. Dr. Sloth and I had an agreement-I would enter the tournament and we would win the money. Yes. We will buy Krishna's freedom."  
  
"Hah! Is that what you were planning to do, dearest? Crafty, I must say, but Krishna is a rather amusing pet. I so enjoy toying with the mind of men of science," she purred, almost hypnotically. "Thinking they won't submit to magic. . .they soon learn well enough. Besides, money doesn't interest me. It was mine in the first place-why should I want it back?"  
  
"I don't know. . .but you cannot enslave him like that."  
  
"And what makes you think I can't? You're just a robot, Mitsuko, if with some kind of organic brain about you and a strikingly organic face, a common warrior/messenger robot. Do you dare challenge me?"  
  
"For the sake of Krishna? Considering I entered that hellish tournament in order to rescue him, I'll wager yes."  
  
"Oh, but. . .I have a creative shield that you would never dare break through."  
  
Mitsuko felt her stomach churn, suspecting what she was talking about. Indeed, the feminine figure in the corner that was the Empress Tahora suddenly snapped her wrist, the form sitting next to her standing up to its full height, that of a human male. Walking forward with a gait a bit like a zombie's, the form emerged from the darkness to reveal itself as the person that Mitsuko had feared it would be the most: Krishna, his eyes just as vacant as they had been.  
  
Mitsuko looked up at her father figure, regret in her eyes and body, wishing, hoping that somehow that somehow Krishna would break out of the spell because of the intensity of her gaze. But it was a stupid notion, and she soon gave up on it, looking away from Krishna, the image of the person she had remembered varying so differently from the current one, too painful to look at.  
  
"Then what do you want, Tahra?"  
  
"For the freedom of Krishna? It's a bit more complex than that, Mitsuko."  
  
"Is it? I have just won the RBT. It's safe to say that I could very well at least draw some of your blood."  
  
"Hah! You amuse me, Mitsuko." The feminine form stood up from her seat, taller than Mitsuko had been expecting. The chains connected to the shackles of Krishna clanked, and immediately Krishna fell to his behind, sitting down hard. Slowly, the faerie from the shadows emerged, her appearance becoming apparent as she migrated into the light.  
  
She was very obviously a faerie as her form was revealed, but there was something drastically wrong about her. Her body was not made of pure flesh-no, in some parts it was interrupted by metal. Her face looked normal, with blue hair coming down to about her ears, red eyes and brown skin-that was, if you could ignore the fact that one of her eyes looked more like a targeting and radar computer, wrapping around to the back of her head. There was also a plate on her forehead, much like the one that Mitsuko had, expect that it was labeled SF. Her neck was made entirely of metal, connecting her to an iron upper chest, a small panel on her chest monitoring her bodily functions. Both her arms were organic, save for at the wrist, where her hands seemed to be connected to the arm by handcuff- like bracelets. Her stomach was of flesh, but her waist to her thigh was made of metal, ending in long, womanly legs. Even one of her wings (which were really four different wings, for they were segmented) was made entirely of metal, the other one a light blue color, translucent.  
  
"But you're a. . ." began Mitsuko, confused upon what she saw before her.  
  
". . .a cyborg, yes. Half faerie, half machine. This is the prime reason I have become the Empress even over Queen Fyora, who has the birth rite to the kingdom.I overpowered her," grinned Tahora.  
  
"How did you come into existence, then?"  
  
"Simple. I was not always a cyborg, of course. . .I was once fully organic, just like any other faerie. Well, perhaps more powerful, as I was assigned to being the protector of Neopia from alien invasion. Indeed, I was the Space Faerie-nobody knew my real name, of course, but I was fine with that. Unfortunately, there was an accident. . .one injury led to another, and nearly killed me. Fortunately, the faeries decided it would be beneficial to actually use technology to their advantage. . .only proving to make me more powerful. . .powerful enough to overthrow the current monarchy and put my own in their place," said Tahora, throwing her head into the air triumphantly.  
  
"You're crazy. . ." mumbled Mitsuko. "And I was never your property. Dr. Krishna found me in the junkyard for spare robot parts."  
  
"Oh, did he?" cooed Tahora, stroking Krishna's hair as if it were the fur of a Persian cat. "Well, no wonder he knew so much about you. It was to my advantage, for making the unit 01. Still, I wonder how you ended up in a junkyard. . .Not that it really matters that much-I probably could've reconstructed you myself," she commented, waving her hand dismissively. She began to withdraw from the bed that Mitsuko lay on, pulling Krishna along with her, who got to his feet and slumped forwards, walking almost like a caveman. "I must depart for now, dear Mitsuko-rest now. You will need it for later."  
  
Tahora lifted one sleek, tanned hand and waved it in Mitsuko's direction, emitting a flow of dust towards the robot. Even though she held her breath, believing that she was somewhat safe from the magic due to her primarily robotic body, she still felt her body beginning to feel sluggish, her eyelids feeling heavy. Though she fought against the influence of the magic, she couldn't resist the urge to shut down and rest, feeling her limbs relaxing against the soft bed, her head hitting the pillow.  
  
"That's a good Rose. . .sleep now. . .you'll have plenty of time for activity later. . .sleep. . ."  
  
The grogginess was overwhelming, and soon Mitsuko found she could fight it no longer. She submitted herself to the bliss of the darkness of her subconscious, Tahora's sickeningly sweet voice fading into the distance.  
  
When Mitsuko woke up once again, she was alone, much to her relief, in the room. Still, she could not feel totally relieved-there was something askew within the building, an instinctive feeling inside of her. Instantly, she leapt out of the bed, feeling revitalized, though still a hint of grogginess in the corner of her eye. She wondered how long the spell had affected her as she unlocked the door with her finger, checking the hallways before exiting the room.  
  
Mitsuko wasn't sure where she was, but it was certainly not the house of normal folk. The hallways were wide, and made of marble, the ceilings high above her head, laced with golden wooden statues and murals on the wall. Although Mitsuko had never seen any castle besides the ruins of Sakhmet City's, she would've guessed that this was what they looked like, grand and magnificent. Lighting her boosters so that her feet wouldn't make noise against the marble floor, she floated forwards inches above the ground.  
  
The castle, much to her surprise, seemed mostly deserted. Faeries that she did see she kept out of sight from, but they seemed to be guarding select doors, and concentrating hard on the walls in front of them. The doors they guarded, however, did not hold the thing that attracted Mitsuko behind their doors, so she was glad enough to pass them by.  
  
As she came to the end of the hallway, she entered what seemed to be an enormous ballroom, complete with a fountain in the middle, life-size water faerie statues squirting water from their mouths. At the end of the ballroom was a set of stairs up to a throne made entirely of gold, save for the crimson velvet cushions. Next to this throne were two smaller seats, made out of cheaper materials and significantly less impressive. And naturally, the walls were decorated with scenes from all sorts of faerie mythology (or so Mitsuko guessed, for they all seemed to tell a tale). As she came to one picture on the wall, she noticed it seemed more recent, the paint less faded. It depicted a faerie embracing what seemed to be some kind of demon-next to that picture was the same faerie mangled and beaten on the ground, as if she had been attacked by some brutal force. After this picture came the same faerie once again, standing up tall and proud, smiling and glowing brightly-yet she was attached to something. Mitsuko looked closer and discovered that they were metal wires, connected to her body, as if giving her some kind of life support.  
  
Before she could begin to translate the artistic story in her mind, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices coming from the distance, a soft hum, occasionally interrupted by an angry spat, which was louder and more audible than the rest. She moved in the direction that the voices were coming from, and quickly recognized both of them: the first, angrier and feminine one was of the Empress Tahora-the second, calmer and masculine one belonged to Dr. Sloth.  
  
". . .dare you come to my castle!" hissed Empress Tahora's voice furiously.  
  
"It really wasn't my choice, Tah-Mitsuko wanted to join. I merely sponsored her."  
  
"Don't you dare call me that ever again. I am the Empress Tahora to you-you are beneath me."  
  
"Sorry. It was an automatic reaction."  
  
"It shouldn't be. Did I not make it clear that I hated you when I relieved you of your legs?"  
  
"That wasn't you."  
  
"Oh, wasn't it?"  
  
"No. And this isn't you either. It's the computer talking."  
  
"You mean this? Don't presume so much, Frank. Perhaps I never really liked you at all-or maybe I was just desperate. I was rather alone up there in space-just like you. We made some stupid mistakes." Mitsuko continued her voyage forwards, silently following the voices, growing louder.  
  
"Those weren't mistakes."  
  
"Yes, they were. I regret every single time we so much as touched one another."  
  
"I don't."  
  
"Of course you don't. You're a man. A horrible man."  
  
"You didn't used to think that. You saved my life, once."  
  
"A mistake. They were all a whole slew of mistakes."  
  
There was silence between the two voices, and finally Mitsuko was in sight of the two. They were standing in the hallway, Tahora silently fuming, Dr. Sloth looking calmly up at her, his expression sorrowful.  
  
"Never mind that. Personal issues are beside that. We are discussing the matter of Krishna and Mitsuko," snapped Tahora, her head turning away quickly.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"The robot is rightfully mine, Frank. You gave her to me, far back as it may have been. You just don't take gifts back."  
  
"I thought you said our whole relationship was a mistake."  
  
"That's beside the point. She's mine."  
  
"I made her, I programmed her. . .I encoded all of her warrior programs by hand. If that doesn't give me the right to her ownership, then I don't know what else does."  
  
"You still gave her away."  
  
"Fine. I'm sure that she'll agree to be yours, as long as you release Krishna here."  
  
"And why would I want to do that? He'll only cause more trouble.it's better that he's a vegetable. Men of science are exceedingly meddlesome."  
  
"Let him go, Tahra."  
  
"And what makes you think I'll listen to you?"  
  
"Because he's our son."  
  
Tahora looked like she had swallowed a red hot Negg for a moment, her eyes enlarging to an enormous size. For a moment, the hard expression faltered, and she looked quite helpless, stripped of all of her power by that simple sentence. That moment did not last for long, and soon she was back to her flaming self, perhaps more so, her jaw clenched, her voice low and sinister. Next to them sat Krishna himself, staring at them blankly, seeming deaf to the entire conversation.  
  
"How dare you bring that up. My child was taken away from me by those WRETCHED monarch faeries. . .God knows what they did with him. . ."  
  
"They set him on Earth, in an orphanage. He grew up among the remaining Neopets near Tyrannia. He became a scientist-Dr. Krishna. Is that so difficult to believe, considering his parentage?"  
  
"Shut up, shut up! You're lying! You were always a liar. You lied to me when you said that I'd be safe! You said that they wouldn't find out! You're the reason that I'm like. . .THIS! "  
  
"I said that I had done all in my power to make sure that they wouldn't find out. But Fyora found a loophole in my plan and discovered it through there. I'm sorry-there was nothing I could do."  
  
"Shut up! It's all your fault that I'm hideous now, having to rely on power, having to be just like YOU used to be!" She snarled, reaching down to him and grabbing him by the lapels of his lab coat, pulling him up to her, their faces only inches apart. "You took away everything that was important to me. . ." she hissed between clenched teeth.  
  
"You gave me everything that was important to me," replied Dr. Sloth, and kissed her firmly on the lips, grasping her by the cheeks. She pulled away fiercely, slapping Dr. Sloth hard across the cheek with the chain that connected to the shackle around Krishna's neck.  
  
"How dare you. . .how dare you. . ." mumbled Tahora, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. Mitsuko was convinced that Tahora's head was set to burst off at any time now. Tahora's hands twitched at her sides, her head looking at the ground, having pressed herself against the wall in order to get as far away from Dr. Sloth as possible. Krishna looked at her nervously, a pup worrying about its owner's mood. "First you say that this.wretched little worm is our child and then you.you." With little warning, she shot forward and knocked Dr. Sloth clear from his wheelchair, sending him skidding across the floor. Helpless, he could do little but back away with the aid of his hands, which couldn't move nearly as fast as Tahora. Tahora pounced on him like a Kougra on her prey, fitting her sleek hands around his neck, emitting a low laugh. "I'm going to enjoy killing you."  
  
Tahora didn't get very far, however-before she could hardly clamp down on Dr. Sloth's neck, Mitsuko was upon her, knocking her off of Dr. Sloth and to the ground, making her stumble and fall onto her back. Without hesitation, she grabbed Dr. Sloth from the ground and shot into the air, Dr. Sloth dangling from her arms. He was not a burden, as she could probably carry much more than his weight, but he was obviously uncomfortable, his legs nearly grazing across the ground.  
  
"Let's get out of here," grunted Mitsuko, looking for a doorway.  
  
"No-we can't escape just yet. They've captured Phil, and he's in a cell-and Krishna is still under her spell."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Tell you what?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"We can discuss that later-now you have to turn around, because the cells are in the other direction, the door leading to the stairway to the cells the second door on your right, TOWARDS our problem."  
  
Mitsuko whipped around, nearly dropping Dr. Sloth in the process. She was still forced to place him on the ground, however, for otherwise Tahora would have an easy shot at him. Bracing herself, Mitsuko shot through the air towards Tahora, who was still recovering from being knocked over. She slammed square into the cyborg's chest, nearly cracking Tahora's monitoring screen, sending her sprawling against the wall. Acting before Tahora could recover once again, Mitsuko grabbed the chain link leash attaching to Krishna and placed it in her mouth, beginning to drag the hypnotized scientist towards the door. Krishna resisted with all his might, but Mitsuko's boosters were much stronger, causing him to trip and be dragged along the floor.  
  
Mitsuko crashed through the door which Dr. Sloth said led to the cells. Sure enough, there was a stone stairway leading downwards. Picking up Krishna from the ground, as she knew it would be exceedingly uncomfortable to be practically bounced down the stone stairway, she shot downwards, crashing through any doors that came in her way, thanking a higher power that most of them proved to be wood painted to look like stone.  
  
Krishna jerked suddenly, pulling Mitsuko downwards as they came to the last few steps before another door. She slammed against the ground, Krishna right next to her, tumbling down the last few steps and just barely making it through the door, rolling head-over-heels, hardly able to tell which way was up and which way was down. She came to a stop in the middle of a corridor of at least twenty cages, lined up against the wall. The cages contained a variety of occupants-faeries, Neopets of all shapes and sizes, robots, even Petpets. Krishna laid where he had fallen, staring vacantly at the ceiling.  
  
Mitsuko got to her feet, head looking around the cages. The occupants began to awaken from their slumber due to Mitsuko's crash landing, rubbing bleary eyes and blinking hard when they saw a strange looking robot outside of their cell doors. Immediately, a chorus of those desiring release sounded throughout the air, trying to guilt-trip Mitsuko into trying to free them all. Mitsuko ignored their desperate cries, silencing them by smashing her fist into the wall, making a loud noise. They all looked at her fearfully, wondering if their face would be next.  
  
"Is there a Desert Shoyru named Philokrates in here?" demanded Mitsuko, her head whipping around so she could see the whole of the prison. The quiet in the prison seemed to deepen. Mitsuko, becoming frustrated from the lack of response, headed to the closest cage next to her and seized the occupant through the bars, pulling it close to her face. "I said, is there a Desert Shoyru in here named Philokrates?"  
  
"Yes. . ." squeaked the Aisha, her eyes wide with terror. She trembled beneath Mitsuko's grip, but Mitsuko had little time to consider the Aisha's feelings. She shook the Aisha a bit, as if trying to shake the information clear out of the Aisha.  
  
"Well? Where is he?"  
  
"In. . .The Cell. . ." Something about the way the tiny Aisha said 'The Cell' made Mitsuko believe it would be spelled with capital letters, although she wasn't a master in the Neopian language. Mitsuko took in a deep breath, licking her lips.  
  
"Where is. . .this Cell?"  
  
The Aisha pointed to the door at the end of the long hallway. Mitsuko, still grasping to the Aisha's chest fur, looked towards the door. This door, unlike the others she had barreled through to get to the line of cages, was made of iron, with metal bars over the small window at the top. From behind the bars, Mitsuko could only see darkness-not a speck of light came from that room. Swallowing, Mitsuko dropped the Aisha back into her cell, turning towards the door.  
  
"Are you crazy, miss?" came the voice of an Elephante directly next to Mitsuko, clinging to the bars with his trunk. "There's a reason we're all afraid of that Cell-we've all been in it before, to soften ourselves up and break our will. Do you know what's inside of that Cell?"  
  
"My friend," replied Mitsuko in a hard voice, and rubbed her hands together. Opening her chest cavity, she searched around within it to find the hilt of the Battle Faerie's sword, which had, thankfully, not been confiscated. Pulling it out, the blade retracted, Mitsuko hovering into the air. Wracking up her nerve, she angled herself horizontally to the ground, pointing the blade towards the iron door. The blade of the weapon began to glow a fiery red, seeming to match Mitsuko's eyes, burning with internal anger.  
  
The Elephante still tried to convince her otherwise, getting as close to her as he could manage through the cell bars. "You can't open that cell, or break through it-you have no idea what you're doing. You might let. . .THEM out."  
  
"As long as I get Phil out, I can handle whatever else I happen to release."  
  
In a burst of energy, Mitsuko sped forwards, slashing that blade in front of her, her arms moving faster than the eye could follow. The door's metal hissed at the contact of the flaming blade, melting a small doorway into the middle of it. Mitsuko bust through the door, tumbling into the cell, the sword jarring from her hand and sticking into the door, separating from her hand as she hit the floor of the cell with a clank.  
  
Blinking hard, rubbing a throbbing side, she rubbed her eyes and observed her surroundings. Or at least tried to, for she could make nothing out in the thick darkness. She wondered, for a moment, if her vision program had been impaired, but when she mentally checked it, she found it in tact. To boot, she could still visibly see herself, though everything around her was pitch black. Confused, she turned on her night vision, but found there was absolutely nothing around her-not even walls, even. She resorted to her rather primitive radar programming, but this, too, proved that she was surrounded by complete nothingness. That presented a question to Mitsuko's mind: what had happened to the cell? 


	11. The Empress

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder, sparking an instinctive reaction throughout her body. Quickly, she grabbed the hand and flipped the person connecting to it forward onto their back. As she looked down at the thing which she had attacked out of impulse, she found that she was looking down at Krishna-yet not the Krishna she had seen moments before. This was the Krishna that she remembered, the one in the lab coat, with the kindly expression. "Doctor?" asked Mitsuko, wrinkling her forehead in puzzlement.  
  
Krishna opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could leave his mouth, he vanished before her eyes. The only thing left of Krishna was his hand. It did not look as if it had been severed off-in fact, it looked as if it had always been detached from Krishna's body, as if his entire body as a whole had never existed. Disgusted, she dropped it onto the blackness of the ground. As it hit the ground, the hand seemed to hit water rather than ground, sinking into the blackness, leaving behind ripples, finally smoothing out. Unable to believe her eyes, she reached forward her hand and touched where the hand had been consumed. She only felt solid ground, smooth, but definitely not liquid.  
  
"Phil?" she cried out, her head snapping around nervously. Her voice, however, seemed to stop directly in front of her, being sucked up by the air around her.  
  
She received no reply but silence. Trying to make her way about the strange space, she felt herself bump directly into a wall, although she had been able to touch the space in front of her just moments before. Grunting at hitting her head on the wall, she felt around herself, only to discover that she seemed to be enclosed into some kind of box. Pushing hard against the sides, she found that even her body could not break the sides. Determined, she opened up her chest cavity to search for something that might be able to aid her in breaking the box.  
  
Yet just as she began searching the crevices of her chest cavity, she found that the sides of the box were suddenly transparent, allowing her to see an entire world that was outside of the box. Blinking hard, she found it was no illusion-in front of her was a palace ballroom almost exactly resembling the one she had been in just instants before, complete with the fountain in the center. A slender figure, a faerie, hid behind this fountain, just barely visible, seeming to speak into something desperately, then pressing a button out of Mitsuko's sight. Hastily, the faerie took off, seeming to head straight for Mitsuko, her red eyes frantic. Behind her obediently trailed a blue Shoyru, having to struggle to keep up with the faerie.  
  
"What's the hurry, Tahra?"  
  
The faerie's head whipped around, seeming to shiver. (Understandable, considering her style of dress-a blue-and-red leotard with dark blue tights, her legs seeming to fade into nothing at her toes.) Emerging from behind the great throne came another faerie, this one with purple hair streaked with green, a green-and-purple dress clinging to her curves perfectly.  
  
"Hmmm? What's that, Jhudora?" asked the first faerie, forcing a smile onto her face. Mitsuko found it hard to believe that this faerie was the Tahra that she had known-perhaps they merely shared the name?  
  
"I said, what's the hurry, Tahra? You've been awfully hasty lately, skipping work, keeping to the shadows. . .and that Shoyru is certainly a new addition. I remember you not being entirely fond of Neopets. . .though you guarded them."  
  
"Oh well. . .y'know, it gets lonely in space, sometimes," said Tahra quickly, sweat beginning to form on her forehead. "I figured that I may as well have a companion."  
  
"But you already have one, don't you?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Quit playing games, Tahra." With a speed rivaling that of a Uni at full gallop, Jhudora released a ball of black energy from her palm. The blue Shoyru leapt in front of Tahra, standing steadily in front of her. The ball made contact with the Shoyru's neck, splitting it in half, sending the head flying like a ball being kicked like a soccer player. No blood emerged from the wound-in fact, the body even stayed upright. No, the only thing coming from the head and the neck were wires, whipping into the air, as if searching for their endings.  
  
"Rose!" cried Tahra, bending down to the robotic Shoyru body, looking so organic from the outside. Tahra looked up to Jhudora, her eyes narrowing. "What do you think you're doing?!"  
  
"What Fyora assigned me to do, Miss Space Faerie. Do you take a monarch faerie for a fool? She'd been suspicious of you from the start- especially after Sloth so conveniently DIDN'T DIE after you send that flaming death beam back at him at point blank range, with little warning," snarled Jhudora, grabbing Tahra by the neck and pulling her into the air, her long, sharp nails digging into Tahra's tender flesh. Tahra gasped, trying to rip Jhudora's fingers off of her. "Admit it, Space Faerie, if only to me-you let him get away. You let him get away because you fell for him way back when he wasn't so bad."  
  
"So? So what if I did?" gasped Tahra, squirming in Jhudora's grip, surprisingly strong. "He wasn't trying to kill anybody. . .he was just trying to-"  
  
"Just trying to mutate and turn the entire population of Neopets absolutely hideous. It's unacceptable, Tahra. You've made a potential risk even larger by not eliminating it when possible. Now, just admit it, Tahra. I promise I won't tell anybody of your little romance. It's kind of cute, actually." Tahra looked down at Jhudora, who smiled venomously with her day- glo green lips. Swallowing, she nodded her head, squeezing her eyes shut.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I do love Sloth. And I'll never let anybody touch him."  
  
"Awww, ain't that cute," cooed Jhudora, and released Tahra, the Space Faerie falling to the ground, gripping at her throat. "He probably made you this little robot to, din't he? I sure don't know any faerie who's into mechanics."  
  
"Yes," coughed Tahra, rubbing at her throat. "So. . .you won't tell?"  
  
"Nah, I'd never break a promise, Miss Space Faerie. Heck, I'd even let it slide-it's just so adorable to see that the big heroine has a weakness," said Jhudora with a smile, holding out her hands innocently. "Unfortunately, I don't think Fyora's SWAT teams are all that willing."  
  
In an instant, hundreds of fire faeries came out from hiding places, bearing the symbol of the monarch faeries. Each held a Sword of the Fire Faerie, glaring down at Tahra with merciless eyes, who looked up at them helplessly, her eyes growing large. They soon narrowed down to an appropriate size, however, as she glared back at Jhudora, seeming to increase in size with her anger. "You. . .you set me up!" she snarled, lunging at Jhudora. Her attack was short-lived, however, as the fire faeries bore down on her, expressing all the force that they had.  
  
The box that enclosed Mitsuko instantly became opaque once again, engulfing her in blackness. Baffled, Mitsuko found that she could feel a vague déjà vu in the scene which had just unfolded before her. Even the entirely organic Tahra struck a chord of familiarity. Perhaps her memory had just been jogged. . .?  
  
But she had no time to contemplate upon the memorable scene that had just happened before her-she found that the box encasing her had apparently dissolved, and she was able to move around in the darkness. Instantly, she began calling for Phil, again finding her voice seeming to not extend nearly far enough, almost coming back and hitting her ears, as if bouncing off an invisible sound wall. For a while she continued the futility of calling for Phil. Finally, after what seemed to Mitsuko to be hours of her relentless calling, she took a rest on the strange-feeling ground, seeming as if she had walked forever in the darkness of the cell.  
  
As she rested in the darkness, something appeared in front of her, small, as if in the distance. Gazing forward, squinting her eyes hard and magnifying the image with a specialized program, she found, upon closer inspection, that it was most definitely Phil. An expression of relief and joy spreading across her face, she leapt to her feet and ignited her boosters, crying out his name.  
  
Without warning, Phil was suddenly right in front of her, as if traveling at light speed to catch up with her. She reeled to a stop, narrowly missing crashing into Phil, stopping mere inches in front of him. Immediately, she threw her arms gratefully around him, hugging him tightly. "Phil! Phil. . .you're okay," she said with a sigh, letting her head rest on his shoulder, suddenly feeling undeniably weary. "Thank God, you're-"  
  
She was cut off as Phil suddenly slugged her in the stomach, causing her to release him, jolting backwards. It merely surprised her, not necessarily hurt her. Phil's fist, however, had obviously taken damage from hitting metal so hard, his knuckles bleeding a bit. Mitsuko looked at him, perplexed by his behavior. As she looked at him closer, she discovered that his eyes looked a bit off-instead of being a bright and lively black, springing with life, they were instead dull and dark, hardly even suggesting that he had a personality.  
  
"Phil?" she asked cautiously, raising an eyebrow. "Is everything okay? Are you still upset about the RBT?"  
  
Phil did not answer her. Before she could react, he was upon her, sending her to the ground, landing on top of her fallen body, standing upon her chest. Looking down at her with blank eyes, he began to viciously attack the panel on her forehead, striking it again and again with his bare fists, only harming his flesh more, hardly hurting Mitsuko. Mitsuko grabbed him by the arm, stopping him temporarily from hitting her head.  
  
"Phil, what do you think you're doing?!"  
  
Again, she received no response. He stopped his assault on the panel on her forehead, pausing as he stood atop her, looking down at her apathetically. She stared up at him, forcing a smile onto her face, hoping that it would knock some sense into him. It only seemed to provoke him, as in an instant he suddenly wielded a golden crook out of nowhere, and slammed it down into the space connecting her head to her body, beginning to force it apart as well as strangle her. Despite being a robot, the organic side of her brain needed oxygen to function, and without it she would be rendered inactive, possibly destroyed.  
  
Mitsuko could only stare up at Phil, not comprehending, exactly, what was happening. Was this really Phil before her, attempting to destroy her? It seemed impossible-the Phil she knew was compassionate, and probably wouldn't try to kill anybody even if they had offended him. Yet she had done nothing to harm him, (save for perhaps entering the RBT) and she had believed that they were, perhaps, something more than friends, though she couldn't quite define what their relationship had been. It hurt her inside- not a physical hurt, but one of emotions, an agonizing feeling rooting deep within her organs. It felt almost as if she were rotting, gradually, starting from her stomach and spreading throughout her body. If she had a gag reflex and any food in her artificial stomach, she was sure that she would've vomited. Yes, she remembered this feeling-it was the same way she had felt, albeit more intense, that night in the kitchen where Phil had walked away.  
  
"Why. . .?" she asked him, looking up at him helplessly. She could quite easily push him off, pin him to the ground and bring justice to his body. But at the same time, she couldn't; it was Phil, after all, the Phil who had given her some kind of extraordinary feeling, the Phil who had saved her from collapsing and never being found again within the remains of RARE. She couldn't strike out at someone who she had seen as a beloved friend, the only person she felt she could truly open up to. The backs of her eyes seemed to sting, as if they were being marauded by acid. Thick oil began to trickle from her eye, rolling down her cheeks, Mitsuko unsure of what, exactly, was happening to her.  
  
Phil did not respond to her pleas to stop. He only pressed on harder, Mitsuko searching his eyes through blurred vision, as if seeking out the answer within them. She could only see the dull darkness, however, so atypical, so wrong. It was almost as if. . .he wasn't Phil at all.  
  
"Not Phil at all. . .?" she murmured to herself, the suggestion alighting in her brain. She once again made eye contact with him as he stared down at her blankly. No, it certainly was him, or at least appeared exactly like him-but his eyes were off. Everything was perfect, save for his soulless eyes, was definitely Phil. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she felt anger sidle up to the despair inside of her, clenching her teeth and her fists. "How dare you steal his body. . ." she began, snarling like a wild animal, ". . .you wretched fiend!"  
  
She lunged forward, the crook dislodging from its position within her neck, snapping and falling into two pieces at her side. She thrust forward her fingers deep into Phil's eyes, ripping at them wildly. What she felt was not flesh, or eyeballs falling apart within her hands-it was as if she were touching a thick goo, oozing through her fingers and down Phil's face, beginning to slide up her body. The goo lurched upwards, forming itself into hands, horrible, clawed hands, careening into the air. The two hands plunged down at her, but Mitsuko dodged, falling to the side.  
  
Desperately, she reached into the space around her, seeking a weapon. Her hands fell upon a cold hilt of metal, and she gripped down, swinging forward whatever she had found. Much to her surprise and relief, she found that it was the sword of the Battle Faerie. With a great slash, she cut clear through the shadow hands. They seemed to scream, writhe in the air, and then fall to the ground, merging with the ground. Another set came behind Mitsuko unexpectedly, but thankfully, her reaction time was fast- soon those were demolished as well, finding the same fate as the other pair. Phil, on the other hand, seemed to sway for a moment, and then fell forward. As he hit the ground, he dissolved just as Krishna had, vanishing without a trace.  
  
The blackness evaporated suddenly, leaving Mitsuko in a regular stone cell, dark and filled with rotten straw. In the darkest part of the room reluctantly lurked two ghoulish figures, appearing as twin Grim Reapers minus the sickles. They both lacked hands, seeming to slowly try and reformulate them. Against the wall leaned an unconscious Phil, looking worn and beaten, bruises scattered through his body. Giving a sharp glare towards the specters in the corner, she rushed towards Phil, slapping him on the cheeks, trying to wake him up, calling his name. The Desert Shoyru gradually opened his eyes, blinking hard.  
  
"Suko. . .?"  
  
"Phil," she said with a sigh, leaning backwards, suddenly feeling the strain of exhaustion. Phil blinked again, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles which were bright red, bloodshot.  
  
"I can't remember much. . .I just. . .remember began dragged off the RBT battlefield by some faeries and then thrown into some dark place. . .I can remember. . .ugh, I can hardly remember anything," he mumbled, cradling his head in his hands.  
  
"We don't have time to waste. We have to get out of here, before those things," said Mitsuko, motioning to the specters in the corner, "strike again-not to mention the fact that an insane cyborg is after me." Mitsuko reached down and grabbed Phil, dragging him to his feet, beginning to pull him out the door. Phil stopped her, though, touching the side of her face. Mitsuko jerked to a halt, shocked, watching Phil look at the black liquid that he had drawn onto his fingers from the streaks coming from her eyes.  
  
". . .are you. . .?" he began, looking concerned, his eyes again filled with life. Mitsuko turned away briskly, pulling at Phil's arm.  
  
"Never mind," she replied dismissively. "We have to go. Now."  
  
Phil responded this time, following after Mitsuko, who took to the air, rushing down the corridor of the cages, a gasp coming from the Neopets and assorted other organisms in the cages. Their escape from The Cell, however, was short-lived, as just as they began their ascension up the stairs, Mitsuko picking up Krishna, who was still lying blank-faced on the ground, the stairway seemed to shake, a bright flash of light illuminating the usually dark corners of the stairway.  
  
"You think you can just run away like that, Rose?! I'm your owner!"  
  
The cyborg Tahra shot down the stairs, ramming into Mitsuko. She was traveling at an astonishing speed, causing Mitsuko to drop Krishna to the ground, being sent flying all the way back into the Cell's open doors. She even dented the wall with the force that she hit it, slowly falling to the ground, feeling her programming spin from the force of the tackle.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?!" demanded Phil, grabbing a discarded piece of metal from the ground, holding it up as a weapon. Tahra gave a glance towards the Desert Shoyru and snorted indignantly. Holding one hand forward, she sent him through the prison bars with an invisible force radiated from her palm and into a cell alongside the Elephante that had advised Mitsuko against entering the Cell, knocking him unconscious once again.  
  
"Shut up, little Shoyru. This isn't your problem."  
  
Mitsuko struggled to her feet, trying to keep her balance best as she could, her vision swimming before her, glitching, images dancing before her eyes. She could see Tahra, however, or at least clips of her, coming closer. Discovering that the sword of the Battle Faerie was directly on the floor next to her, she picked it up, holding it forward, standing her ground. Tahra gave a laugh, coming right up to Mitsuko, not a shred of fear in her eyes. "You think that the blade of the Battle Faerie will defeat me?" she asked, amused.  
  
"It's worth a shot," hissed Mitsuko grimly, and slipped beneath Tahra's legs suddenly, shooting upwards and stabbing at the back of Tahra's torso, aiming to impale her. She failed, however, Tahra seeming to anticipate her move, shifting the direction she faced instantly, catching the blade in her hand. The sharp end cut deep into her vulnerable flesh, drawing blood, but Tahra hardly seemed to notice, her expression not faltering in the slightest.  
  
"Bad move, Rose."  
  
With a movement of her wrist, she bent the blade into a u-shape with little effort. The blade seemed to creak, and then snapped clear in half, the tip falling to the ground, covered in Tahra's blood. Tahra held up her injured hand. Before Mitsuko's eyes, the flesh healed, the two sides of the cut merging together, nothing left of it but a small scar and a few specks of blood. Mitsuko stared, unable to believe her eyes.  
  
"Give up now, Rose. I don't desire to ruin presents of mine. Besides, you'd prove very useful to me," smirked Tahra, holding her arms akimbo.  
  
Mitsuko swallowed, looking up to Tahra. She could hardly see the woman that she had seen in the vision in the darkness, though her basic outline was apparent. Perhaps the red eye was an indication, and the blue hair-but the metal on her body ruined the image that Mitsuko had stored in her mind. She wondered how Tahra had come about to the fate of being half faerie, half metal-and since she was cornered at the time being, she felt that she may as well ask what was on her mind.  
  
"What happened?" Tahra's face screwed into one of confusion.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean. . .what happened, to make you. . .half machine? I heard you blaming Dr. Sloth. . .if I really am your robot, then why don't you tell me?" 


	12. The Truth

Tahra lifted an eyebrow, interrogating Mitsuko with her eyes. "You really have forgotten everything, haven't you?" she said with a sigh. "Frank wasn't lying about that, I suppose. . .oh well, I suppose you do deserve to know something about your past. And now seems like a convenient enough time as any," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.  
  
"You, as you have probably deciphered by now, were created by none other than Dr. Frank Sloth himself. A pet project of his, so to speak, long in the making-a sentient programming. Of course, he couldn't do it with merely a computer, so he used parts of a long-dead Shoyru's brain and incorporated it with mechanical programming. The Shoyru brain was naturally aggressive, and the programming was set to kill-a killing machine, so to speak, but able to reason and think in battle, thus giving it an advantage: superior strength and fighting abilities, as well as strategic thinking. He gave you a strikingly organic form, and then put you aside for a while as he came upon Neopia.  
  
"Flash back a while back. A LONG while back, before you were even a thought in Frank's mind, before he became. . .well. . .before he became a so-called 'villain.' He and I were friends, I suppose you could call it- perhaps a bit more than that. Unfortunately, he was into the studying thing, whereas I preferred to slack off-I, however, was offered a job working for protecting Faerieland and Neopia. Needless to say, we grew apart, contacts breaking off-and for thousands of years, I hadn't seen the slightest of him. Of course, when he did come back, it was no better than him being away; for when he came back, in all of his dark glory, I was ordered to destroy him.  
  
"But when it came right down to it. . .I couldn't do it. I couldn't manage to just. . .up and kill the one whom I had formerly had a relationship with. So I let him get away, hoping that he'd disappear once again. But he didn't. He stayed out of reach of Neopia and other conventional faeries for a while, but certainly not out of my reach. I was the Space Faerie, after all-space was mine to roam free. And so the. . .relationship that we had shared in those early years was rekindled, even as he invaded the Lost Desert. Of course, none of the faeries knew about it, because I would probably be executed if any of them found out. But for the time being I thought I was safe, if feeling a little strained.  
  
"Seeing as I divided my time between guarding the atmosphere of Neopia from rogue evils and visiting him, it was natural that I was beginning to become exhausted quite easily. And so out of the dust, he pulled you as a sort of 'replacement' for me. Do you know your original name? It was Primrose-but I just called you Rose for short. You would guard Neopia while I subsequently went to visit him, thus allowing for more. . .personal time. You also could carry messages between the two of us when I had to physically stand guard against potential invaders.  
  
"Unfortunately, the plan wasn't foolproof, and we knew this, and a need for an escape was becoming vital, especially since I had become pregnant, later having to deliver the child in private agony. So we planned my escape, leaving you behind to do my work-granted, we were a bit regretful for that, but we knew that you could handle the job well enough. It was a wonderfully orchestrated plan, but something went wrong.his plan screwed up, the plan that was supposed to be perfect. He said it would work and it didn't-he lied. They found out. . .Fyora, all the other wretched faeries. And, as I had known they would do, they punished me, destroying both me and you without hardly asking any questions. They took my newborn child and threw him down to the Earth to be an orphan, a stranger in a strange land.  
  
"Of course, before they could destroy me completely, they allowed me to have one final request-and that was to be able to kill the one I was formerly willing to throw away my life for, the one that had made me lose everything consequently. Bleeding profusely and almost half dead, I found him and attempted to finish off his life-but I missed with my attack and instead snapped the bottom of his spine, rendering him legless, though I will admit the sound of his vertebrae cracking was terribly stimulating. I could not go on, and I died right then and there, allowing him to escape with the aid of only his arms.  
  
"Sadly, Fyora hadn't counted on just how vital to the equation of Neopian safety I was. With both you and me gone from protecting Neopia from outside invaders, a whole lot of new evils decided to show their ugly faces- those ten times worse than they could've imagined a full-scale Sloth invasion. It rained chaos down on the surface of Neopia, radiation, plagues. . .all sorts of horrible things, decimating the population of humans and cutting the population of Neopets in half. By the time Fyora realized what she had eliminated to cause such catastrophe, having blamed it ignorantly on Sloth before, Faerieland as well fell to the invaders, corruption spreading throughout the cloud land.  
  
"And Fyora, desperate to return faeriekind to its former grace, managed to find my corpse and resort to something that faeries had long since sworn they would never turn to-science. Knowing that she had to find some kind of guardian that had been just as effective as me, she hired a bunch of science faeries she had formerly exiled, desperate to bring myself back, somehow. They managed, through current robotics and, admittedly, some magic, to bring me back from a death I did not desire to leave-leaving me in this deformed, albeit powerful, state. And so, I returned to my position, at first, content for I knew I had little else anymore-a hatred was alighted in my breast for the former lover Frank Sloth, intense and unquenchable, the one who had caused my demise and unfortunate reincarnation.  
  
"Soon, as the catastrophe died down, myself having eliminated all of the threats, no new ones arriving as the planet was worthless now, Neopia now a wasteland with sparse dots of population on major cities, such as Sakhmet and Neopian Central, I realized that I was fighting a battle for the very people who had brought about my slaughter. I was, in all essence, fighting the enemy. So I overthrew the monarchy. It wasn't difficult-a whole fleet of faeries is no match for metal and magic. Many learned that too slowly, and perished because of it-but soon Fyora stepped down to a lower position, allowing me to take control of the faerie population.  
  
"And then, backed by an entire population of faeries, I had unlimited power. I began the RBT, in an effort to reclaim you, of course-I merely tested you with a clone of yourself in order to make sure that you were indeed the robot that I thought you were. Pure programming stands not a chance against a brain coordinated with a computer. I knew that you would eventually lead me to Frank-and thus, I would be able to end the root of the problem, thus solving the problem. And once this is completed, I will be content to once again slip into the peacefulness of death." A smug smile was plastered onto Tahra's face, confident. "Now-there's no reason for us to battle. We were friends once-we can still be such."  
  
Tahra held out her hand in a gesture of peace and friendliness, an almost welcoming smile on her face, gentle, quite unlike the cruel countenances that had been displayed previously. A vague familiarity struck a chord in Mitsuko's mind, memories finding their way from the depths of her mind, striking her all simultaneously like so many bullets hitting her at once. Instinctively, she reached her hand towards Tahra's. Yes. . .she remembered. This was her owner, indeed, the one she had been given to. And. . .she had a message from her. . .to Frank. . .  
  
But before Mitsuko could touch the tips of Tahra's fingers, the cyborg suddenly lurched, her entire body convulsing. Her one crimson eye grew wide, the smile melting from her face. Mitsuko stepped backwards as Tahra toppled forwards, seeming to lose all sense of herself, falling flat on her face. Mitsuko looked up, startled, to see Krishna directly behind Tahra, his hands gripping tightly to a metal pole, knuckles white, devoid of blood. His eyes were wide, pupils slowly dilating, as if he were gradually coming to himself. An angry look found its way onto his face as he looked down at the fallen cyborg.  
  
"You. . .you're not my mother. . ." he hissed venomously, clenching the metal pole hard. "Who do you think you are. . .you. . .you. . ."  
  
Mitsuko gathered herself, feeling a sense of disbelief. For a moment, she had been someone else-something else, rather, for she really wasn't a someone. She had been the robot that Tahra had been talking about, all of her memories temporarily returning, along with the old, more placid personality. Now, however, it seemed to all fade away into the background, the hardened Mitsuko personality returning, almost to her relief. To her, it was a sense of joy to see the Krishna she knew back, despite the angry look on his face. She moved over to him, touching him on the shoulder. He jerked towards her, as if he were about to hit her with the pole as well. Upon seeing she was Mitsuko, however, his muscles seemed to loosen. A weak smile pushed at the sides of his lips, his red eyes sparkling.  
  
"Mitsuko. . .you have no idea what a relief it is to see you in tact. . .see you at all. . ."  
  
"The same applies to you," answered Mitsuko, exchanging his smile. She looked down at the unconscious cyborg, feeling a shred of pity in her heart for a former owner she could not fully remember now. "Come on, we have to go now, though. . .the ghouls in The Cell will finish her. . ."  
  
Just as Mitsuko mentioned the dreaded specters, their ghostly forms began finding their way out of the Cell, shadowflesh repaired, hands groping forwards. The Neopets shrieked and shrank back in their cages, no doubt memories of an encounter with one or the other flittering through their frenzied minds. The creatures from the Cell, however, took no interest in those they had already assaulted-instead, they flocked towards Tahra, lying on the ground helplessly. They shrouded her body with their dark and faded forms, seeming to merge into her, sinking into her body and disappearing. Instantly, her body began to seize as if in intense agony, twitching and twisting in a half-sleep.  
  
"Swamp Ghouls. . .? Where did they come from. . .?" muttered Krishna tiredly. He looked down to his wrists blankly. ". . .shackles. . .I can remember. . .conversations. . ." A pained look flickered in his eyes. "At least. . .I know who my parents are now. . ." He seemed ready to faint, pressing his index fingers against his temples. Mitsuko offered a shoulder to the weary doctor, and he accepted it, wrapping his arm around Mitsuko's shoulder. With what remained of the Battle Faerie's blade, Mitsuko managed to slice through the shackles on Krishna's neck, wrists and ankles, discarding the now useless blade.  
  
They both looked down at the cursed cyborg, only able to guess what she was experiencing. Krishna was the first to speak, his usually pink lips pale. "I heard. . .that she was my mother. . .the two people that I hated most in this world. . .ironic I suppose," he said with a weary smile. "They do say that most children have. . .parent-hating problems. . .perhaps. . .it's appropriate. . ."  
  
"Perhaps," replied Mitsuko, not mentioning that the same applied to her. Instead, she began to aid Krishna in turning around, heading to the front of the aisle. Allowing Krishna to stand alone for a moment, she migrated over to where Phil lay in the Elephante's cell, seeming to just come to, rubbing his forehead. She held out a hand and helped him to his feet. Blinking hard and shaking his head, he looked directly at Mitsuko, a concerned look on his face.  
  
"Suko. . .you look so. . .beat. . .did she. . .?"  
  
"No. See for yourself." She gestured towards the twitching form in the middle of the cells. Phil gazed at it for a moment and then back to Mitsuko. He touched the side of her face affectionately. A deep urge came over her to tell him everything right then and there, needing to empty her soul out to somebody, desiring another to understand, almost finding it a duty to tell another. But he stopped her before she could talk, placing a finger on her lips, halting her speech.  
  
"You don't have to tell me now, Mitsuko. You can tell me when you're ready. When you are, I'll listen without faltering. And. . .we can just. . .talk."  
  
Their eyes met-the circumstances didn't exactly support an essentially romantic environment, but Mitsuko wasn't entirely familiar with the concept of 'romance,' so it mattered little. She could only know that she was more drawn to him than any other time in her life, wanting to move her face closer to his, just like they had that night in the kitchen. And so she did, hoping to better understand her feelings, hoping to better understand Phil's. This time, he did not pull away, and she found his finger slipping away from her lips, replaced by the soft flesh of his lips, warming hers. For that moment, that fact that Phil was flesh and she was metal mattered not-only that he was there, and so was she.  
  
And that would be enough.  
  
It was pitch dark outside when the company of four returned to their homes, clouds above blocking out all moonlight and stars, heavy enough to not even give a glimpse of the moon's brilliant rays. Krishna had absolutely collapsed on the journey back home (for they had been considerably far from their original town, Phil having to take on the burden of Krishna and Mitsuko that of Dr. Sloth, both which seemed unwilling to speak to the other), so they laid him down on the couch within Dr. Sloth's house, covering him with a blanket although it was warm outside.  
  
Phil and Mitsuko alike had both suffered injuries-though it was difficult to say who had the greater. Phil had a large bump on the back of his head, coupled with a gash on that bump which needed to be disinfected and bandaged. Mitsuko needed framework repairs, which proved more extensive than Phil's physical cuts and bruises. While he tended with those by himself in the living room, Mitsuko helped Dr. Sloth, minus his wheelchair, for it had been far too heavy to carry, back to his lab, finding a spare, dusty old wheelchair in the back, though still functioning. Mitsuko helped him into the wheelchair, then sitting down as Dr. Sloth wheeled about to retrieve the proper tools to fix her with.  
  
She was quiet at first-it was clear by Dr. Sloth's expression that he would be reluctant to talk about anything that had happened previously in the past day. As he began to work on her framework, however, the silence became too uncomfortable for even Mitsuko, and she cleared her throat, speaking.  
  
"How long did you know?"  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"That I was. . .that you were my creator."  
  
"Almost as soon as you came. I thought it was best that you remained oblivious though, so I pretended to not know-there was no reason to bring you back into the tangle of things." Dr. Sloth stopped speaking for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. "So she told you, did she?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you know about Krishna too, I suppose."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well.suppose those things would've happened sooner or later," sighed Dr. Sloth, pressing his lips together as he applied a particularly tough screw. "I'm sorry. . .if it caused you any mental trouble. I probably should've just told you straight out-you shouldn't've found out like that."  
  
"No. . .I think. . .that you made a wise decision," said Mitsuko slowly.  
  
"Maybe not. Now you have two personalities, you know-the one you developed a long time ago, and one that you developed in these past few years. You may find yourself being split between the two. . .and that can be very difficult indeed. Trust me-I should know," said Dr. Sloth, a regretful look on his face. "Two personalities. . .two histories."  
  
"It's nothing that I can't handle."  
  
"Of course," answered Dr. Sloth, not looking her in the eye, but nodding. "You were built to last-it shouldn't be an issue, should it?" He looked up at her and smiled sadly, then returned to his work on her framework.  
  
". . .You miss her, don't you?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
". . .her."  
  
"Well. . .yes. It was painful, at first-I disbanded all of my armies for her, to escape. But. . .they found out anyway, so it was pointless, and thus I descended to Neopia while chaos rained down on the cursed planet. But seeing her like that. . ." He fell silent, continuing his work, his face expressionless, Mitsuko unable to read his emotions. ". . .but she's not a problem anymore. . .the Swamp Ghouls will finish her. . .deteriorate and devour her soul. . .that's their food source, anyhow. . ." The muscles around his jaw tightened in soundless agony, straining his voice. She thought, for a moment, that he might cry, which would be odd indeed-but the excess moisture in his eyes did not breech the barrier of his eyelids.  
  
"I remember something. . .something that I was supposed to deliver. . ." spoke Mitsuko, more to herself than to Sloth, staring off into the distance. Something nagged her in the back of her mind-the personality she had forgotten was beginning to find a grip of control over her current mind, and she submitted, figuring that her past would know what to do.  
  
Instantly, her chest cavity opened without her willing. All that was within it clattered to the ground, surprising Dr. Sloth, making him wheel backwards. From the chest cavity, however, came a small device, shooting forwards from a robotic arm with the device attached to it. A whirring sound came from the device, as if it was a tape rewinding-and perhaps it was, for soon a light emitted from the device, displaying a hologram directly between her and Dr. Sloth, her eyes going dim from activating another program.  
  
The hologram was of the Tahra that Mitsuko had seen within the Cell, a desperate look on her face, leaning forwards towards Dr. Sloth in the hologram. She was about a foot tall in the hologram, but by the look on Dr. Sloth's face, Mitsuko could guess that seeing her as she had been mesmerized him. He reached a hand forward, but when his hand touched nothing more than air, he brought it back instantly, coming back to reality. The hologram began to speak, sounding old and static-filled, the image flickering constantly.  
  
"Frank. . .I don't know what's happening, but I'm leaving now-I'm going to try and meet you, but if I'm delayed, don't worry-take care of Rose until I get there, okay?" She reached her small hand forwards, a smile on her face. "Wait for me. . .I'll be there. . .I love you. . ."  
  
The hologram faded into the air, Dr. Sloth staring into the blank space, his eyes unblinking. "But I waited. . .I waited for so long. . .but when you came. . ." The wrench that was in Dr. Sloth's hand clattered to the ground, his body seeming paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. Mitsuko, regaining herself, the device retracting into her chest, looked over to Dr. Sloth, not entirely surprised, as Tahra had told her that she was a messenger of some sort. Dr. Sloth's expression, however, made her feel almost guilty for revealing the message to him.  
  
"I'm sorry. . .." muttered Mitsuko, unsure of what else to say, backing up. Dr. Sloth shook his head, swallowing. He covered his face with one hand, waving Mitsuko away with the other, the color seeming to drain from his jade face.  
  
"No, no. . .it's okay. I just need to be alone for a moment, okay?" Mitsuko nodded and departed the room, closing the door behind her, feeling a bit of worry for the doctor. The thoughts of Dr. Sloth diminished, however, as she found Phil in the living room, sitting alongside Krishna. He stood as she entered the room. Exchanging unspoken words with their eyes alone, effortless, as if they were connected mentally, the two left the boundaries of the house, soaring into the night's cool air, making lazy circles around one another. For the time being, they were two Shoyrus, organic or not, in love, courting flights a purely natural and acceptable thing.  
  
As the moonlight began to show its pale face between the slowly parting clouds, the two Shoyrus descended to the ground, falling into the sand next to one another. Mitsuko was not fully healed, some of her framework still a bit battered and bruised, but she felt as if it were all healed within the warm presence of Phil. Although she was tired, it was of a good sort, allowing her to lean into Phil as support, support that she had never previously felt a need for. Now, it fell upon her like a tidal wave, making her feel vulnerable, dependent. It scared her a bit, making her hesitate to get too close to Phil. What would happen if she became too dependent, and he was suddenly pulled away?  
  
Phil, seeming to sense Mitsuko's uncomfortable feelings, moved closer to her, his fingers brushing the side of her cheek, alighting the artificial reactions on that side of her face. Their faces were close, but Mitsuko refused to look into his eyes, instead looking downwards at his stomach. "Are you afraid?" he whispered into her ear, his tone tender and understanding.  
  
"I. . .don't know. . .you. . .you were afraid at first. . .you never really told me why. . ."  
  
Phil was quiet, staring intensely at Mitsuko for a moment, and then moved closer to her, pressing his lips against her forehead gently, to the side of the panel on her forehead. He nestled his chin on top of Mitsuko's head, and spoke, gazing over her head into the distance. "There's. . .more of a reason why I hate the RBT. . .more than just. . .because I don't like seeing sentient robots beat on one another. . .or any robots, for that matter." Mitsuko drew closer to him, her head against his chest, able to feel the beating of his heart throbbing against her artificial skin. She waited patiently for him to finish his story, closing her eyes slightly.  
  
"A while back. . .when I was younger. . .I was apprenticed to an Acara who worked on robots for the purpose of the RBT. He had me work on one of my own. . .and so I made one that was a Shoyru, naturally. She was of poor make and framework, and certainly wasn't fit for battle, though I didn't know the difference, at the time. All I knew was that she was my playmate, sentient or not, the only one that I could talk to. Unfortunately, the RBT did eventually roll along. . .and since that was what she was made for, I thought nothing of entering her into the contest. She got pulverized, however. . .down in the first round, and ripped so much apart that I could barely recognize her anymore. I certainly couldn't fix her, and my master refused to help me. I was forced to bury her remains because of my ignorance. . .and I've never forgiven myself for entering her. . ."  
  
Phil's voice sounded choked, as if he had something caught in his throat. Mitsuko was unsure of how to comfort him exactly, but lifted her head upwards and touched her cheek to his, secretly enjoying it herself as well. She felt warm water on his cheeks, tears coming from his eyes.  
  
"I'll never abandon you, Phil," she promised, both to herself and Phil, not caring that she felt dependent, easily able to be harmed. Her feelings were simply too strong to ignore them anymore. "Just promise, again, that you'll never leave me. . ."  
  
"I promise."  
  
Mitsuko didn't remember how long they stayed out there, and when they finally headed back to Dr. Sloth's house, but she knew that it couldn't possibly have been long enough. Just pressing her body against Phil's was worth the whole world, and she would fight and destroy any foe to gain such a privilege. She was on top of the world, floating high above it, caught on a never-ending thermal, and she had no desire to land. 


	13. Destruction

"Mitsuko?"  
  
The voice that woke her up felt as if it was from a lifetime ago, strangely foreign. It took Mitsuko a while to register the voice as Krishna's, someone that she recognized, and she opened her eyes slowly. She found herself on the couch, nestled between the back of it and the still- sleeping body of Phil, his stomach moving up and down with each long breath. She lifted her head from where she slept, and whispered to Krishna so as not to wake up Phil.  
  
"Yes, Dr. Krishna?"  
  
"I need some fresh air. . .but. . .I don't know this place. . .so. . .will you go with me?" asked Krishna, an almost childish fright in his eyes. Mitsuko, almost amused by his impishness, making him truly look like a faerie, pointed ears pulled downwards, agreed, carefully moving over Phil to get off the couch. She gave him one longing last look before following Krishna out of the door, who was dressed in some of Dr. Sloth's clothes which hung off him, much too large.  
  
"So what do you need?" asked Mitsuko, looking up to Krishna.  
  
"Well. . .first of all, I need to pee," admitted Krishna, scratching the back of his head. Mitsuko looked at him oddly, but led him to where she had frequently seen Phil head when nature called, a bathroom not an issue for her, even after she had eaten food. Krishna headed over to the small little dig in the sand and Mitsuko looked away, allowing Krishna some privacy. She looked back after a moment to see him heading back towards her, zipping up the fly. (Though admittedly, it didn't really help, as he was constantly pulling up the pants anyway.)  
  
"Now what?" asked Mitsuko, not meaning to sound cold, but really wanting to return to the couch next to Phil.  
  
". . .well, I just wanted to talk really. . ." started Krishna, almost sounding embarrassed at wanting to do so. Mitsuko let her demeanor change to a more welcoming one, reminding herself that Krishna had probably just gone through something much like what she had experienced. She nodded, understanding, the two walking side by side out into the desert, the town already becoming too noisy in the dust of the morning, Neopets rushing to beat the heat.  
  
Mitsuko did not begin the conversation. Although she had been becoming more vocal, it was still not her forte. Besides, it had been Krishna who had wanted to do the talking, but he was silent for the majority of the walk until they had walked for at least an hour, miles away from Sakhmet City. Finally, his knees seemed to buckle, and he keeled forwards, almost falling face-first in the sand. Mitsuko just barely managed to catch him, supporting his body and helping him sit down. As she did this, she caught a glance of his face-it was beet red, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. Down his face streamed an endless amount of tears, dripping down from his chin. He rested the side of his head on Mitsuko's shoulder as he sat beside her, weeping silently, not sniffling or choking, just letting the tears roll down his face.  
  
They sat like this for a while, Krishna trying to regain control of himself multiple times but seeming to submit once again to the temptation to continue to cry. Finally, he managed to take reign of his feelings, leaning forwards, holding his knees, letting his back slump. Wiping away the tears with the back of his hand, he began to speak, his voice wavering every so often.  
  
"I-it's stupid I guess. . .I always wanted to know who my parents were. . .but. . .then again. . ." He swallowed hard. ". . .over the years I had been able to formulate such a picture perfect vision of them together. . .although I knew that probably wasn't the case. . .still. . .it was. . .jarring. . .even if I wasn't fully conscious or anything.  
  
"Who am I kidding?" said Krishna with a weak smile. "When I was young. . .I would've given anything for parents, even if they were dysfunctional. Heck. . .I guess. . .I guess I would've even accepted one of them as guardians or some sort. I was just dumped out onto this world, with no sense of identity. Free to imagine that I had some sort of wonderful set of parents, a beautiful mother and a strong father-I was just kidnapped, that's all. But in truth? I've got one former madman and a current madwoman as biological precursors. But I suppose. . .some things are too much to hope for."  
  
Mitsuko didn't know what to say-of course, the news had come to a shock to her as well, but she hadn't been quite as fixated over the concept of whom had created her or owned her. Krishna did not seem to want a reply as much as someone to talk to. An outpour of feelings seemed to stream from his normally conservative-on-feelings lips, almost as if there had been a build-up of emotions behind his usually pleasant demeanor and now it burst out, unable to be stopped.  
  
"It was so lonely as a child. . .heck. . .who am I kidding, I was always lonely. There was nobody there for me. . .nobody really cared, and everybody who even noticed that I was alive seemed to take it into the back of their mind that I was some kind of freak, due to the fact that I was half-and-half, not to mention that I possessed half a faerie body and still was interested in science. I can remember from my first day of education among all Neopets. They were filled with endless supplies of leers and glares. . .a friendship was not offered to me among them. At first, I was okay with playing alone. . .but as I got older, the isolation got to me.  
  
"It's strange, I suppose-science was the one way out, something that I was actually good at. I was poor at writing and sports-I constantly broke fragile bones in sports, and thus was picked last the majority of the time. I found solace in those bubbling chemicals, solace I couldn't find in sentient creatures. Sad. I could make creatures that I could train to love me, but they would never truly do so out of will. . .or so I believe that they wouldn't. I never actually brought that theory to experimentation.  
  
"I could feel something growing inside of me, Mitsuko. Something horrible, and yet I didn't know what. A darkness, I guess you could call it, a taste for the flavor known as revenge. It frightened me-I became scared of myself, convinced that I needed to have some kind of contact with a being that could think and talk. . .so I decided to create a robot, knowing that I would never be able to find a Neopet that wanted to be near me. . .I had already tried that strategy many times before, with varying amounts of failure. That's why I went to the junkyard that day. . .to find a sentient head somewhere within the fray, hopefully. . .and ironically enough, I found a project of my father's," said Krishna, a small smile flickering on his lips. "I don't regret it. . .even if you were with me for only a time, it drew back that feeling inside of me. . ."  
  
"Maybe. . ." started Mitsuko, staring into the air idly, her forehead wrinkling with thought. Krishna seemed to wait for her to finish, but she decided against it-what she had wanted to say would probably upset Krishna at the time. She had almost suggested that, perhaps, his father had felt the same way.  
  
Krishna paused in speaking for a moment, but before he could break into speech once more, a loud explosion sounded from behind the two of them, making Krishna jump and Mitsuko stand on guard, jumping to her feet, as if expecting an attack at any moment. As Mitsuko looked behind herself, gazing over the horizon, she felt what could pass for a stomach inside of her drop-on the tip of the horizon was an orange plume of flame, looking like a blooming poppy, slowly rising into the air.  
  
Without speaking, Mitsuko left Krishna behind, heading back towards the town. Though she knew that many other houses lay in that direction, Dr. Sloth's did as well, and this was what worried her. Flaring her boosters, she shot forward like a bullet, skimming across the sand, kicking it up from behind her. A large dune blocked her view of the town, a view that would allow her to see the entirety of the town, as well as Dr. Sloth's house, far from the rest of the town as it was. Shooting up into the air, she breeched the top of the dune, looking down at the land before her. What she saw made her want to vomit-unfortunately, her body was not constructed quite that realistically to allow such a function.  
  
As her eyes wandered to Dr. Sloth's house, she saw exactly what she had dreaded: from the sides of the house leapt flames of an unquenchable fury, reaching high into the air with their long, flaming fingers. The house was blackened, and a part of it was completely demolished, a mere amount of ash in the ground, like ebony sand that blew smoke from it. Her heart lurched, eyes widening. As her gaze wandered with the smoke that blew from the flames, she could see an entire flock of fire faeries floating over the house like a private band of assassins. They were preparing another attack, apparently, judging by the way they all held their hands in the air, summoning fire to their palms and gathering the power in the center of their circle.  
  
"NO!" screamed Mitsuko, hoping that somehow, someway, that Phil had been spared of the first blast. She tried to burst forwards, to travel that extra mile in a colossal burst of speed. But she found arms around her, restraining her from going forwards, clutching to her desperately. Struggling wildly, flailing, she found that the arms belonged to Krishna, staring forward with an expression just as horrified as hers, though trying to stop her from going forward, trying to save her from doing something that might risk her life.  
  
And so she could only watch in absolute revolution and terror as the enormous ball of flame forming above the house grew larger, until it was twice its size. The fire faeries gave a loud group chant, and the fireball was suddenly unleashed upon the house mercilessly. As it hit the house, Mitsuko shrieked out once again, ripping and tearing at Krishna, swearing and hitting him, trying to get forward, thinking that perhaps if she got there in time, she would be able to rescue Phil. But no. Krishna remained on top of her, bearing her into the ground, pinning her down with some inhuman strength that he possessed inside of him that she had never felt before. And she watched as the house was decimated before her very eyes, the flames of the house's glittering reflection in her eyes.  
  
The fire faeries, seeming to be pleased with their awful work, retreated from the house, zooming overhead of Mitsuko. Giving a raw scream of anguish and hatred, Mitsuko shook off Krishna and darted upwards towards the flock of faeries, who, among their ranks, carried the Battle Faerie, liberated before the house had been destroyed. Even though she lacked a weapon, she charged into their ranks without mercy, tearing at their vulnerable flesh with extreme barbarity. A few shrieked and fell to the ground, injured-but the others simply teleported away, hoping to get away from the insane robotic Shoyru as quickly as possible.  
  
Mitsuko forgot about her foes on the ground for the moment, shooting towards the house, achieving her destination in just moments. She circled above the burning remains of the house, looking down at it with wide eyes, feeling an emptiness beginning to seep over her. She searched, with the utmost preciseness, for any scraps that could vaguely be the form of Phil- for the time being, she did not even think of Dr. Sloth, the fact that he was probably in the building as well totally out of her mind. Finally, her eyes gazed upon movement within the embers, and she shot downwards, landing among the charred rubble, kneeling down next to the stirring form.  
  
Indeed, it was Phil-or rather, what remained of Phil. He was still alive, perhaps, but hanging onto the edge of his life by a string. Where there had once been yellow-gold skin was now cracked black, the cracks of a raw red color, bleeding at the edges. His bones were twisted into unnatural positions; he was primarily colored black and red, bleeding profusely from his neck, a most fatal wound. Gingerly, Mitsuko placed a hand beneath Phil's head, picking it up gently, speechless, staring down at him, wondering if his eyes were open or if his eyelids had just been burnt off.  
  
". . .Su. . .ko. . ..?"  
  
The words were uttered with an expression of pain on what Mitsuko could only guess was Phil's face. She leaned down towards it, not quite touching it as she knew that would probably only cause him more pain, if he could still feel. She couldn't speak, couldn't answer his question. She was only able to keep herself close to him, staring down, not able to believe what was happening. The burnt figure in her arms trembled as if he were a small infant, moving himself closer to Mitsuko, almost trying to get warm, despite the fact that he had been so horribly burned.  
  
"Suko. . .I'm scared. . ."  
  
He shook terribly within her arms, closing his eyes, squeezing them shut and giving a little cry of pain. His burnt arms managed to wrap themselves around her, clinging to her desperately, as if she was his last chance at life support. She did the same for him, though carefully, not wanting to hurt him any more. As long as he was alive, she could still hold onto the false illusion that he would make it through. His cheek touched hers, but this time it was not smooth, but cracked and rough, scraping at the fake organic skin on her face. It didn't matter to her, though-for the time being he was still alive, and nothing could rip her away from him at that moment.  
  
"D-don't be," she managed to choke out, closing her eyes as well. "I'm here, Phil. . .I'll protect you from them. . ." Her words ceased with a little squeak, being cut off by her throat tightening.  
  
"G-good. . .as long as you're here. . .Suko. . .everything. . .will be great. . ."  
  
A last smile stretched across Phil's face, cracking his skin a bit more, but he seemed to hardly notice. His arms gave one last squeeze to Mitsuko flesh, a tear dripping down his face despite his smile, wiping off onto Mitsuko's skin. He began to say something in a low voice, the smile ever present on his face, but slowly his grip loosened on Mitsuko. The eyes that she had so often gazed into looked up to the sky, as if searching for something, glazing over, never to see again. Slowly, his body fell away from Mitsuko's as her grip was lost, her body paralyzed.  
  
She couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't cry. She couldn't do anything to release her feelings-they could only grow within her, those of grief, anguish, anger and hatred. She could feel their intensity building up inside of her, as if she were a soda bottle being shaken up, the cap about ready to explode. When that occurred, she didn't know exactly what she would do, the body of Phil lying in her arms, Phil so close yet so very far away. The feelings building up inside of her were beginning to overwhelm her senses, and slowly, tears of oil began to roll down from her unblinking eyes. Yet even as she began to cry, her fingers rolled around Phil, gripping him tightly. Her jaw clenched, the fake muscles flexing tightly.  
  
And then she snapped.  
  
It was not an abrupt snap, with Mitsuko suddenly striking out at the first thing she could hit. No, quite the contrary, for with the mental snap came no physical change besides the fact that the oil streaking her face had stopped seeping down. Her body just seemed to stop functioning for a moment, her arms releasing Phil's body, the limp carcass falling to the ground amid the ashes. From behind, she could hear Krishna coming, but she felt nothing. She only stared forward, her eyes slowly narrowing.  
  
"Oh, God. . .Mitsuko, what happened?" She did not reply to Krishna's inquiry. In all honesty, she didn't even hear him. Krishna bent down next to her, but instead of consoling the blank-looking robot, he instead picked up a piece of paper from the ashes, squinting to read the calligraphy handwriting. Krishna drew back as he read it, swallowing hard. "But. . ."  
  
Mitsuko didn't even need to have the card read to her out loud. She knew who was behind the horrible event that had just happened, even if her soul was supposed to have been devoured by the Swamp Ghouls. It could be no other, directing faeries to commit such crimes. The question of how she had escaped from her internal prison didn't even strike a thought into her mind, for the time being, reasoning was completely washed from her mind. Standing up erect, she stared forward, her eyebrows turning downwards.  
  
"I'm leaving now, Krishna," she announced, her voice as cold as stone, his eyes equally as so. Krishna looked to her, blinking, astonished.  
  
"What? What do you mean? Aren't you going to-"  
  
"There is one thing that I must do, Dr. Krishna, before I may join Phil in the afterlife, if there truly is one for those such as myself. And I need to finish that now, Krishna."  
  
"What about. . .my. . .father. . .?"  
  
"Find his remains within the house, if you feel the need to bury him. . .look after Phil until I come back. . .though I will not return in one piece."  
  
Without looking back, she shot into the air, redirecting her course for that of where she had only a day before come from, hoping that, perhaps, leaving the castle had meant some kind of new beginning. But now as she headed back towards the wasted remnants of Faerieland which they had escaped from, she knew that this time her conflict would not be resolved so easily.  
  
Tahra, whom Mitsuko had little doubt had committed the crime, had made a dire mistake in attacking Mitsuko. Perhaps she had truly wanted the robot back that much as to take such drastic measures, but unfortunately, Tahra had sparked something inside of Mitsuko that had completely taken over her body, to the extent that anything getting in the way of her destroying the half-faerie, half-machine, would be immediately annihilated. In a way, Tahra had unknowingly given an advantage to the now-deranged and hell-bent robot: she had given her an opportunity to strike at her with nothing to lose.  
  
Without Phil was a possible future, everything, in Mitsuko's mind, looked bleak and lifeless compared to what she had been given a taste of. She could see millions of RAREs in her future, thousands of pointless wars fighting against opponents that she could easily defeat, perhaps even joining the RBT again. (But honestly, that would defeat the purpose, for she would just see Tahra once again, causing the cyborg to try, again, to capture her.) Yet this was nothing that she had ever wanted originally, if having joined them anyway.  
  
In all truth, she hadn't wanted to fight, no matter how much it had made her 'blood' boil with the heat of the moment, no matter how much of a charge she had believed to feel as she had sliced through the flesh of innocents. No-maybe, unlike Phil had once said, she was not a fighter, but in fact a lover, due to the organic half of her brain, constantly working against a robotic instinct to destroy.  
  
Yet now what remained of the compassion which had been given by the organic brain seemed little-in the flurry of emotions Mitsuko had experienced at Phil's death, the organic side of her brain, unable to cope with the deep loss, had seemed to completely allowed the robotic side control, hardly trying to get through. And for the time being, Mitsuko was glad of this, if her lack of emotions could even allow such a thing as gladness-as long as she remained heartless, reverting back to a state that she hadn't been in for so very long, she could destroy Tahra without a second thought. Without emotions, she didn't have to feel the agonizing weight of Phil's, and ultimately Dr. Sloth's, death on her heart, weighing her down into the ground. As long as she stayed like the merciless robot that she was, she was safe from the dangers of her emotions, safe from what harm they could cause her to do to herself.  
  
It did not take her very long to arrive at the castle from which she had departed only a day earlier, as she had been traveling as fast as her boosters had allowed. (She also did not have the burden of Dr. Sloth's weight to carry-and as far as she knew, she would never have to bear that burden ever again.) She had never truly gotten a good look at the castle, as she had been desperate for escape at the time being, but as she looked on it with flat eyes, oil still leaking from them slightly, she noticed that it seemed like a horrible, gray claw, reaching into the air. She could distantly remember Krishna talking about Faerieland's fall from paradise, and its former grandeur, but there was certainly nothing grand about what lay before her, especially for what it represented in her mind.  
  
What had once been a haven of fluffy clouds and magnificent structures fit for a period of enlightenment had been reduced to something of a dark era: the ground around the area looked like a swamp filled with thick, black sludge, boiling and popping, sending its horrid fumes into the air. Pieces of long-forgotten buildings were half-submerged into the terrible pond, some of them being sucked into its depths as Mitsuko watched. The castle stood in the middle, on an island of some sort covered in ebony-colored grass, seeming to rot and curl into odd shapes before her eyes. The castle itself was of a white color, but darkened from the atmosphere and the mildew and plants growing on the sides of it. Even a shade of black would look better on the wasted castle. But Mitsuko wasn't interested in the decline of architecture.  
  
She increased her speed forwards, aiming for the first window that she set her eyes onto. There were a few without glass that she could've easily passed through, but she was not interested in finding the easy way in-as long as she entered the building, the pathway in which she got into it was not important. Ducking her head down, she smashed through the glass window with relative ease, tumbling into an empty room, collecting herself and then continuing through the door.  
  
The part of the castle that she had entered was certainly not as well- kept as the places which she had traversed through originally. Indeed, the wall's paint was peeling back, and some of the walls were completely absent, allowing her to peer into the rooms, though she did not take the time to do so. She had no map of the castle that she knew of, but she was quite certain of where she could find Tahra and rid her of being in this world-it was a memory that aided her, a memory from parts of her organic brain, slowly bringing itself back into function, but certainly not enough to compete with the robotic killer instinct.  
  
Wandering down the hallways and through the different levels of the castle brought images into her mind. Mentally, she reformed the castle, adding furniture where they used to be, internally knowing the layout of the castle, as if she had traveled it many times in a past life. But, in all realities, it wasn't the castle she remembered at all-that one was filled with life, bustling with faeries and noise, busy but cheerful. This castle was devoid of life, seeming to try and suck her soul from her. Mitsuko was in no danger of that happening, however-she had no soul to lose, and had become quite aware of that.  
  
She floated down the hallways in a sort of murderous daze, intent in her eyes, but moving slowly. She passed no active faeries, and the ones that she did seemed apathetic to her presence, giving her one solid look then moving onto the matters they dealt in. As she continued on, the dank castle began to become lighter, the scenery fixed and less broken. She knew that she was getting closer to the ballroom, but that wasn't exactly where she wanted to go. Changing her path to another corridor, she immediately sensed the sound of voices. 


	14. Attempted Revenge

Before she could get anywhere in the hallway, however, something snapped in front of her, a mere blur before it stopped directly in her path. She was instantly on guard, ready to destroy what was in front of her- and certainly, she would've done it gladly, for as she got a better look, she saw clearly that it was the Battle Faerie herself, holding a brand new sword, looking identical to the one that Mitsuko had become so fond of wielding.  
  
"Nobody is allowed down this hallway," said the Battle Faerie, her voice hard. She obviously recognized Mitsuko, judging by the distasteful look in her eye, and she set the tip of her blade inches away from where she had formerly struck the robot and caused her many problems. "I would advise you leave."  
  
"I would advise you move," responded Mitsuko, her voice flat.  
  
"Go now, robot. The Empress Tahora does not desire visitors at this moment," snarled the Battle Faerie, bringing the sword up to Mitsuko's face, pointing it directly at her nose. "Besides, I'd have fun getting another jab at you."  
  
"I'd like to see you try," tempted Mitsuko, although her voice wasn't very convincing, lacking the proper emotions to provoke the Battle Faerie. The aggressive faerie took the lure hook and sinker, in any case, pulling back her arm to slash at the robot. The preparation that the Battle Faerie took was long enough to allow Mitsuko to plan out her attack, and in seconds she executed it.  
  
The sword was slashed downwards at her head. Dodging the blow, she came in from the side and grasped the Battle Faerie by the arm, lighting up her boosters and slamming the two of them into the wall, the Battle Faerie giving a little cry of alarm as her head ricocheted off the hard stone wall. Before she could react to the attack, Mitsuko had taken control of her wrist and jammed it back into the wall, forcing the Battle Faerie to hold her blade horizontally across her own throat. From the force of the blow, the blade got just close enough to give her a knick on her so vulnerable flesh, a drop of thick blood rolling down her skin.  
  
The Battle Faerie swallowed, eyes flickering down to the injury she had received, and then back up to Mitsuko, whose face was mere inches from hers, her eyes emotionless, looking like that of a ruthless killer. There was no doubt in her frenzied mind that Mitsuko would finish her in a second unless she allowed her passage willing. In fact, even as she thought, the blade sunk deeper into her skin, causing more blood to seep from the ever- growing wound.  
  
"I am not interested in negotiations, Battle Faerie. Your Empress Tahora has cost me enough already-I will not lie. I have come here to murder her. And I will think nothing of taking your life if you do not move." Mitsuko emphasized her words by slamming the Battle Faerie's head back into the wall with each word of her last sentence. The Battle Faerie, the unusual emotion of fear appearing in her wide eyes, nodded vigorously, a bit deranged from her head taking so many blows.  
  
Mitsuko dropped the Battle Faerie, the frightened faerie falling to the ground, her sword falling from her hands. Mitsuko generously relieved her of the weapon, holding it forward, turning her attention away completely from the Battle Faerie. The faerie, however, stopped her before she could advance anymore, calling out the name Rose. Mitsuko snapped her head around, glaring venomously at the Battle Faerie, who shrunk back, realizing her mistake.  
  
"I-I'm sorry. . .I didn't mean to. . ."  
  
"It doesn't matter. In a few minutes, I will no longer have a purpose for a name."  
  
"A-anyway. . .y-you have to be careful. . .the Empress Tahora. . .has gone mad. . .the Swamp Ghouls made her absolutely crazy. . .she'll kill you without a second thought. . ." mumbled the Battle Faerie, her eyes terrified, as if remembering something that had happened to her only a few hours earlier.  
  
"I wasn't expecting her to welcome me with open arms. I am ready for whatever she may hurl at me."  
  
"W-well. . .in that case. . .I know this may sound weird coming from ME, but. . .good luck." Mitsuko lifted an eyebrow curiously at the Battle Faerie's statement. Had she just wished the robot good luck in killing the leader of her people? "It's just. . .when she overtook faeriekind, we suffered so. . .with her dead, Fyora could take her rightful place. Perhaps, then, order would be restored. . ."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
Mitsuko turned away once again from the Battle Faerie and continued down the hall, following the sound of voices. As she got closer to the source of voices, she heard that it was not, in fact, two voices conversing, but in fact just one, talking to itself, answering questions that it had asked. 'The Empress Tahora. . .has gone mad. . .' The Battle Faerie's warning had been fair, but Mitsuko felt no fear in her heart. She had nothing left to lose but a life that meant nothing now, without Phil.  
  
She remembered the room that she entered from a history long ago-but this, too, was different. It had no furniture inside of it, as she saw as she opened the door, and had no light but a small light faerie contained in a container in the center, banging on the sides of the glass, trying to escape from its prison. In the corner was a form, curled into a tight ball, the source of the murmurs and frantic crying, coupled with random spouts of shouting and insane laughter. The figure shook for a moment, falling silent. It lifted its head, a single robotic eye glowing green in the darkness.  
  
"Mommy?"  
  
The voice was unnaturally high, but still that of Tahra. Mitsuko stepped forwards into the darkness, closing the door behind her, hearing it lock. There was no turning back now.  
  
Tahra shook her head, slowly uncurling her body. From the bit of light, Mitsuko could see an abnormally large smile stretch across Tahra's face. "No, no. . .you're not Mother. Mother abandoned me, of course. Just like all the others." She broke out into peals of laughter, ringing through the room. It stopped abruptly, Tahra walking forward, her head jutting forward as if her neck were longer than it was. She tilted her head to the side, her one organic eye staring into Mitsuko's in an unnerving manner. "No, it's you, Rose. I knew you'd come."  
  
"I've come to destroy you," stated Mitsuko plainly, cutting to the chase, holding forward the sword of the Battle Faerie, which glowed with an mystical light.  
  
"Of course you have. It's a natural reaction, after all, now that I've finished off what matters most to you: that pretty little Desert Shoyru of yours. I'm all that you have left now."  
  
"All I have left? No. I have nothing left. That is why I have come."  
  
"Come to destroy me? You will not succeed, you know. I will finish you before you even get within a foot of me."  
  
"I have nothing left to lose. It doesn't matter if I get within an inch or a mile of you-as long as I try to avenge Phil-and Dr. Sloth's- death."  
  
"Well, I did kill your precious little love thing, but I don't recall killing Frank. Oho, indeed.how would I kill him during that spectacle? He's right over there, darling-alive, but I'm not so sure about well."  
  
A light suddenly illuminated in the opposite corner, a small little dot of light, obviously some kind of magic spell, brightly lighting up the area. Indeed, nestled in the corner was the form of Dr. Sloth, slumped over in his wheelchair, apparently unconscious. A large gash was displayed on his forehead, dripping blood to the ground, but he was still alive, his back moving up and down with each breath.  
  
"Dr. Sloth. . .?"  
  
"Yes, that's him all right. And he's still alive, because I owe him my gratitude. . .without his pathetic help, I would've become a victim to those Swamp Ghouls. And I suppose I should thank you as well, before I put you down," said Tahra with an ironic smile, "that little message that you sent him seemed to rekindle old flames for him quite well-well enough to make him stupid, at least."  
  
"Then why. . .why did you destroy the house?"  
  
"Pfft. I thought you knew that already. Light a fire underneath someone, it's sure to make 'em jump. In this case, the fire was eliminating your little Shoyru toy, and the jump was bringing you back here."  
  
"So I was right. Phil was just a tool to you, wasn't he." Emotions began to kick back into play within Mitsuko's mind. She could feel her face on fire with rage, slowly changing from its normal place blue color to one of red. Tahra smirked, seeming quite satisfied with getting the Shoyru so mad, only seeming to want more of the same reaction.  
  
"Of course he was. He was low brow scum, after all-probably couldn't even afford to pay his bills. I did a service to him in eliminating him-cut him off from the stresses of normal-day life. You should be THANKING me!"  
  
"Thanking you?" Mitsuko's body quivered with rage, slowly building inside of her, only contributing to the need to fight, the need to destroy. She would not stand for Tahra to say such things about the late Phil-he had meant too much to her to allow the wretched faerie to get away with such things. If she had an aura, it would be emitting from her in all directions. She also felt a deep sense of betrayal within her stomach from Dr. Sloth, having freed a beast that he knew would wreck havoc upon the already wasted lands of Neopia. "I'll show you my thanks."  
  
Without any more words, Mitsuko attacked wildly, lunging at Tahra. The faerie pulled backwards, laughing madly, Mitsuko swinging so hard that she nearly found herself on the ground. Her feelings were interfering with perfect programming, making her decision irrational. But try as she might, she found it difficult to push them back and allow the program to take control.  
  
"What's the problem, Rose? Are you mad?"  
  
"Don't call me by that name!"  
  
Mitsuko dove at Tahra, slashing at her ankles. Tahra shot up to the top of the room, seeming to hang from the ceiling, her face eerily glowing by the green light of her robotic eye. As she looked down, however, her smile faded-on her ankle, which was organic, she could see a gash from the blade, beginning to drip blood, forming a small puddle on the ground below her.  
  
"You. . .hit me!" she said, as if unable to believe her eyes.  
  
"And I'll hit you many more times, I guarantee it," growled Mitsuko, and upwards towards Tahra, taking advantage of her shock. Her head plowed into the faerie's soft organic stomach, pounding her backwards into the wall. Tahra gave a shout of surprise, but shoved Mitsuko off as soon as she realized what she was happening. Mitsuko absorbed the shock of the fall by rolling backwards, stopping in a crouching position, glaring at up Tahra. The former Space Faerie grinned once again.  
  
"The first blood's yours, my dear-but the last will be mine."  
  
In an instant, Mitsuko found herself being driven against the wall from a high energy beam, slamming through to the other room. This by no means knocked her unconscious but bruised her badly-she was definitely not down for the count. She got up as quickly as her body would allow her, going back through the hole she had created towards Tahra, who stood waiting for her.  
  
Mitsuko went for the middle of Tahra's body, the faerie quickly defending herself in that area. Feinting, though, Mitsuko circled around her body and hit Tahra's back with her feet hard, flaring her boosters to burn the organic flesh of her body. Tahra spun around, grabbing Mitsuko's tail that flailed around in the air and pulled her downwards, though, slamming her against the ground. She aimed a beam of energy directly at the panel on Mitsuko's forehead, but Mitsuko recovered just in time to dodge the attack, tilting her head to the side. The seemingly organic flesh of the right side of Mitsuko's face was blasted off by the attack, leaving only the framework exposed, making her look that much more like she was made purely of metal.  
  
Slipping underneath Tahra's opened legs, Mitsuko focused her attack on the places where she had burned the faerie, stabbing at the area. Tahra leapt into the air, the attack instead bouncing off of her hips, made of metal. She came coming back down at Mitsuko with a ferocity, pinning Mitsuko's chest to the ground with her feet, bending over to impale her with her metal wing. Mitsuko grabbed the wing and forced it back upwards, throwing Tahra forwards. Leaping to her feet, she grabbed Tahra by the hair, preventing her from falling, but flung her easily back at the wall.  
  
Tahra would not remain stunned for long. She recovered surprisingly quickly from the blow at the wall, her face snarling with a shocking ugliness. She shot forward and reached for the tip of Mitsuko's blade. Mitsuko pulled it back, and thrust it forwards, nearly impaling the former Space Faerie if she had not managed to dodge just in time, her stomach, however, receiving a slight flesh wound. As she zoomed past, she turned around her body and slashed Mitsuko's framework with her blade-like metal wing, cutting her deeply through the middle, oil beginning to spring from the injury. Tahra wound up on the other side of Mitsuko, holding her arm backwards. Though she was bleeding on her stomach and her foot, she seemed unaffected by the injuries.  
  
"You're an ample replacement for a Space Faerie-but you cannot compete with a metal-and-flesh version."  
  
A laser sudden flashed from the metal eye that Tahra possessed, sending Mitsuko's arm bearing the sword against the wall whereas Mitsuko remained where she stood. The wires crackled and hissed angrily, Mitsuko hardly seeming to notice the injury. She lunged forwards as more lasers were fired at her, weaving through the rain of death. Tahra did not expect the suddenly slug to her chin, the crack of bones being split resonating through the room. She grunted in pain, but struck back at Mitsuko, who was now up close, aiming the lasers directly at the panel on her forehead. Mitsuko ducked downwards, grasping Tahra by the legs and pulling them upwards, flipping her upside down.  
  
Tahra, however, was not about to be disoriented by the suddenly loss of the sense of up and down. Rooting her hands firmly on the ground, she pulled her legs from Mitsuko's grasp and did a flip, landing on top of Mitsuko's shoulders. From there, she swung downwards and aimed a laser straight through Mitsuko's back, nearly blasting her in half. Mitsuko, hardly phased by the attack, flipped over in the air, throwing Tahra off as if she were the bull and Tahra was the rider. With Tahra on the ground, Mitsuko looming above her, she punched her fist downwards onto the robotic eye of Tahra, smashing it into pieces, allowing her to see what remained of her organic eye-a black, empty socket, nothing more.  
  
Tahra threw her off of her body, an enraged look on her face. "This place is much too cramped. . .what say we. . .widen the arena?'  
  
Opening up her arms upwards, Tahra looked to the ceiling, seeming to concentrate for a moment. The ceiling seemed to shiver, as if something above the room was shaking the room that they were in. With a suddenness, however, the ceiling broke away, as if being completely sucked into oblivion when in reality, it was being knocked outwards. As Mitsuko looked up, she could hardly believe her eyes-through some unseen power, Tahra had managed to rip off the entire roof of the castle, including all of the levels above them. Mitsuko hated to think of what would become of the faeries unfortunate enough to be in the levels above them.  
  
The two shot into the air almost simultaneously, becoming higher and higher up into the air. It was almost as if they were competing in a contest to see which could achieve a higher altitude. Mitsuko thought to attack, but before she could execute her attack, Tahra had seized her, grabbing her by the wings and shoving them closed, just as the 01 clone had done to her. Grasping Mitsuko by the crack in her framework, Tahra pushed downwards with all of her might, sending Mitsuko helplessly back downwards, her wings having been crushed by Tahra's hands smashing her wings into a folded position.  
  
She found herself back in the roofless room in a moment, feeling quite sore. She found it difficult to move, and almost smashed through the floor into the next room beneath them. Blinking her eyes hard, she looked up to see herself next to the unconscious form of Dr. Sloth, his eyelids flickering slightly, as if he were about to wake up. An idea lighted up inside of her mind, knowing that there was little chance that she would be able to out-muscle Tahra now that they weren't in closed quarters. Not to mention the fact that it would be a most appropriate vengeance.  
  
Getting to her feet as quickly as her battered body would allow her, she grabbed Dr. Sloth from his wheelchair with her one remaining arm. She managed to retract her wings as best she could, her boosters still in order, even if one was a little bit bent in the wrong direction, and then launched herself upwards, the burden of Dr. Sloth's weight once again in her hands-this time, however, it was dead weight, making him significantly heavier. Tahra looked curiously down at the Shoyru robot.  
  
"What do you think you're doing, Rose?" she asked, cocking her head quizzically as the two got on even levels.  
  
"Let me get this straight," huffed Mitsuko, trying to catch her breath, even though in all honesty she didn't need to catch any breath. "At one point in time. . .you loved this man, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes. But I was naïve, and gullible. He is nothing more than scum-he caused me to end up like this. He is the source of all my woe."  
  
"Maybe.maybe he is. Perhaps your anger is justified, Tahra. But I must ask you-do you really hate him?"  
  
"Of course I do. Give him to me, and I will kill him promptly. That will clear up a few things."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Mitsuko held him forward, and Tahra reached forward, her hands just inches from his body. But before her hands could grasp around his body, Mitsuko released her grip, Dr. Sloth's body falling from the high position where they were. From the height they hung at, he would most certainly die as soon as he hit the ground. And with that, Mitsuko received just the reaction that she had been looking for-the one organic eye that Tahra still possessed enlarged, and she dropped downwards like a stone, managing to get underneath Dr. Sloth's free-falling body before he landed. Mitsuko followed after, the two managing to come to a stop a few yards above the opened castle.  
  
"WHAT do you think you're doing? Are you trying to kill your very creator."  
  
"No. Instead of trying to break your body. . .I am trying to break your heart." The former Space Faerie scoffed at this suggestion, and promptly dropped Dr. Sloth the remaining height (which wasn't much) to the bottom of the room. The doctor gave a little moan, stirring, his eyes opening slightly.  
  
"Tahra. . .?"  
  
"You err again, Shoyru, even after I've told you it so many times- leaving you weak." And then Tahra spun around faster than Mitsuko could react. The metal wing sliced through her neck easily, Mitsuko's head popping off of her head like an overripe fruit. She was not dead, though- not in the least. Her head, still functioning, fell from atop her body and to the ground below her, the useless body falling after her, crashing to the ground, remaining limp. Her head finally came rolling to a stop, looking up at Dr. Sloth's weak body. Tahra descended from the height above the castle, a smug look on her face.  
  
"Disappointingly easy," commented Tahra with a roll of her eyes, floating above Mitsuko's head.  
  
"I'm still conscious. . ." warned Mitsuko. Tahra laughed heartily at the suggestion, wiping her eye of tears.  
  
"What are you going to do, Rose? Leak oil on me? I'm threatened," she mocked, and then promptly turned her attention away from Mitsuko, holding out her right hand, turning towards Dr. Sloth. Her right hand began to glow a bright white color, and from it seemed to grow a long staff with a moon- shaped blade on the end. Her hand returned to its normal color as the staff fully emerged from her hand, the staff returning to its original colors: a black staff with a glinting metal blade. Gripping it with both hands, she turned the point of the blade towards Dr. Sloth, a sinister grin spreading across her face. "And so, it ends."  
  
An undeniable sense of déjà vu struck Mitsuko's head, as she had no body to speak of, and she could do nothing more than watch the events that unfolded. Her confidence in Tahra's still-present love for the man quickly diminished upon seeing Tahra in the poise above him, pressing the tip of the blade against the tender flesh of his throat.  
  
But instead of bringing the blade across his throat, subsequently ending Dr. Sloth's life, Tahra hesitated. Dr. Sloth was just coming to as she held the position, his eyes slowly opening, looking up at Tahra. Fear, an emotion that Mitsuko was unused to seeing on Dr. Sloth's face, crept onto his countenance, mixed with a bit of pity and regret, as if a deep pain were prodding his insides. As the blade was pressed harder against his throat, he squeezed his eyes shut, his lips moving slightly. "I'm sorry."  
  
"You're a little late on your delivery, Frank-you should've done it a long time ago," growled Tahra. Mitsuko was sure she would slit his throat then-but against she paused, hesitating in the inevitable ending. She wrinkled her nose, as if disgusted at her inability to commit the crime, gritting her teeth. "Traitorous. . .your mistakes led me to this. . .you reduced me to this. . ."  
  
"I didn't do it on purpose-it was an accident," replied Dr. Sloth lamely. This only seemed to provoke Tahra, her teeth baring themselves.  
  
"An accident?! Is that what you brush it off as? I loved you, Frank-I honestly loved you. No lies here. I would've come with you. . .but it was all ruined. You overlooked something, Frank. Your mistakes have brought me here-and your mistakes will now end your life."  
  
"Don't."  
  
"Why shouldn't I?!"  
  
"You didn't do it before."  
  
"What makes you so confident that history will repeat itself? Perhaps I aimed too low that time, Frank."  
  
". . .maybe you did. But I have to at least try to believe. . .that you still have feelings for me somewhere. Because that's the only thing that's been getting me through everyday."  
  
"Pathetic."  
  
"Maybe. But I still care for you, Tahra. I care for you as much as the moment I met you-more, even. The truth is. . .you could slit my throat right now, and my last words I would still be apologizing for all the things I've done to you. I'm. . .I'm so sorry, Tahra." His red eyes seemed to glisten with oncoming tears, his jaw clenching. "I don't know exactly what I did to you. . .but. . .I would do anything to make it up. . ."  
  
"Shut up! You're lying!" screamed Tahra, in an absolute flurry of rage. Tears, although she didn't seem to notice them, had begun a course down her face, dripping downwards. "Shut up! What do you know of forgiveness? You're a killer-a damned killer! I don't know why I ever loved you-why I ever risked anything for your love!" Her face began contorting into all sorts of odd expressions, some seeming to not even fit the words she spoke. Judging by her expression, Mitsuko wondered if she was fighting some kind of internal war between two sides of her brain-perhaps she had an organic and a machine side just as herself?  
  
For just a moment, Tahra's face softened, looking like the face of the faerie that Mitsuko had seen within the grasps of the Swamp Ghouls. For just a moment, the blade, already slightly stained with Dr. Sloth's blood, pulled away from Dr. Sloth's neck, and she looked as if she would lean forward and assure him that everything was okay, wiping away the tears that threatened at his eyes. But this, unfortunately, was only for just a moment- and soon, the maniacal side of Tahra returned, the blade suddenly pulling backwards and then launching itself forwards, aiming directly for Dr. Sloth's neck. 


	15. Resurrection

Fortunately, her blade did not get that far. For the majority of their little conversation, Mitsuko had been searching through her programming for some kind of 'radio' system that would be able to contact her body and, if for a limited amount of time, allow her to control the body's functions. She had managed to accomplish her task in the nick of time, sending out frantic messages to the body, concentrating hard on exactly what she wanted it to do. It had risen from behind Tahra as she spoke, and now leapt forward, grasping her by the neck, pulling her backwards. The staff flew from her hands and clattered to the ground, Dr. Sloth, for the moment, graciously spared.  
  
The robotic body and Tahra struggled for a moment, and then, the headless body decided to end it. With a jerk of its one arm, it smashed its fist into the panel on Tahra's forehead, cracking the panel, destroying it completely.  
  
Instantly, Tahra went limp in the robotic body's arms, and so did the body, Mitsuko ceasing sending the messages. Her one red eye seemed to go dull, gazing upwards blankly. For a moment, she was completely still-and then a black haze seemed to seep from the panel on her forehead, floating up into the air and then diving down into the ground. The wires connecting the handcuffs to her skin suddenly sprang from her skin, floating into the air. Indeed, the machine parts of her body seemed to be going crazy, as if trying to escape from her body, for underneath Tahra's limp body grew a black pool from where the black gas had hit the ground, spreading around the body.  
  
It first sucked Mitsuko's former body in like it was nothing more than a piece of food, a large bubble popping upwards as it was submerged completely. The former Space Faerie, however, seemed to go more slowly, her legs sinking first. Mitsuko watched in horror as the enigma unfolded before her, unsure what to think or what to do. Although the black pool did not extend towards her, she still felt a great sense of fear, wanting to move away, but unable to due to her lack of body.  
  
Dr. Sloth, on the other hand, gave a cry of alarm. Although bruised and battered by the very person who was slowly being pulled into the quicksand-like material, he still scrambled forwards on his arms alone, his legs dragging behind him uselessly, desperately stretching his arms to try and reach her body while not falling in the black liquid. As Mitsuko looked at it, she realized that it appeared just like the swamp water that had surrounded the castle. And even as they were in the room, the feeling of the castle beginning to shake, slowly lowering itself into the liquid along with its ruler, rumbled through their bones.  
  
Dr. Sloth finally managed to get a decent grip on Tahra body. With all the strength he could muster, he pulled her vigorously, trying to free her of the liquid. It only proved to suck her down more, and dragged Dr. Sloth with her, stumbling forwards and falling into it. For a moment, he struggled against the force that pulled him down, but soon submitted to the inevitable, relaxing his muscles. Instead, he reached forwards to Tahra, either unconscious or dead, wrapping his arms around her almost protectively, as if it would do anything to save her. Still, he held her close, and she seemed to take a bit of notice, the one eye becoming slightly less cloudy.  
  
"Frank. . .?" she asked, confused and deranged, her eye looking upwards and searching around the room, occasionally passing by Dr. Sloth altogether. She lifted one of her hands and reached aimlessly, trying to touch something that wasn't there. Gently, Dr. Sloth reached his hand forwards and wrapped his around hers, bringing it back towards their bodies as they sunk lower and lower. With her hand in Dr. Sloth's, Tahra seemed to calm down, her one usable eye closing, a hopeless smile spreading across her face. It quickly faded, however, and her eye opened again, the tears still running down her face, this time with more intensity.  
  
"It's.all my fault, isn't it. All of this. The castle. Your pain. Rose's pain. The world's pain. I wasn't strong enough, and I allowed myself to be overcome by something that wasn't me.the machine.I'm so sorry, Frank," she wept, choking out the words between fits of sobbing. Dr. Sloth buried his face in her blue hair, shaking his head.  
  
"No. It's not your fault. You did all that you could. That's enough."  
  
"I failed everyone. . .Frank, I tried to kill you. . .I would die if you were gone. . .I. . ."  
  
"Shhh," whispered Dr. Sloth in a soothing voice, running his fingers through her hair, his other hand squeezing hers encouragingly. "Everything is going to be fine, Tahra. . .maybe not right now, but. . .someday. . ." He spoke this even as they sunk downwards. Tahra probably knew that he was lying to make her feel better, but the smile reappeared on her face amid the tears. Neither of them seemed to care that both of them were heading towards their death-as long as they faced it together, it would be enough.  
  
"I don't want to leave you, Frank."  
  
"You're not going to, Tah."  
  
"I can't hold on much longer. . .you're fading, Frank, and I don't want to go alone. . ."  
  
"Hold on just a little bit longer, Tah. . .we'll be able to get through this."  
  
"No. . .why. . .why can't I see you? Or Rose?" Tahra's word's were obviously supposed to be frantic, but her voice sounded calm, and the smile never left her face. "Is this what dying is like?" she asked softly, her eyes looking questionably into the air. For a moment, they were bright, as if seeing something that she truly desired, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Frank. . .won't you come with me?" she asked in a hardly audible voice, staring seemingly through the space above her. With those last words, her one hand slowly reaching above her, Tahra died, a smile lasting on her face eternally.  
  
"Tah?" whispered Dr. Sloth, seeming shocked at first as Tahra's arm fell limp to her side, the grip on his hand loosening. He released her hand and patted her gently on the cheek, a desperate look passing over his face. "Tah?" he asked louder, looking down at her blank eyes. A look of horrible realization encompassed his face, and he gripped to her body, breathing hard. "No. . .no. . ." his voice began, quivering, but slowly increasing. The tears that had threatened at his eyes now broke the dam that he had created, pouring down his face as the liquid reached to his hips.  
  
And just as this occurred, the liquid seemed to tighten its grip on Tahra and yank her downwards furiously, leaving Dr. Sloth alone in the liquid that now ceased dragging him down. It took Dr. Sloth a few moments time to realize that his hands were empty from pure shock, and when he did, he cried out like a wild animal. Reaching downwards, he frantically dug at the liquid, as if searching for Tahra through it. Judging by his expression, Mitsuko estimated that his arms touched nothing but the goop, covering his arms all the way up to his shoulders.  
  
After tirelessly searching for what seemed like hours, Dr. Sloth sat back, holding up his hands and looking at them blankly, not making a sound as he wept. He covered his face with his hands, leaning forwards and placing his elbows on his useless legs, wallowing in his own puddle of grief. Mitsuko offered no condolence-he was the reason that Phil was dead, and causing something like that was virtually unforgivable.  
  
Yet as Dr. Sloth covered his eyes, the liquid before him seemed to change. From the utter blackness of it came a ray of light, slowly spreading through the pool, lighting up the room. Dr. Sloth, obviously noticing the light change, pulled his hands away from his eyes, looking down at the liquid around him that now looked fluorescent, white with many different color sprinkled in. Before him grew a figure from the liquid, rising into the air, covered in the liquid. For a moment, it was suspended in the air, the body masked. The liquid, with a suddenness, flew off of the body, revealing a fully organic form of Tahra, her wounds healed and absent. Her eyes, however, were still blank, her body naked. She didn't seem to notice Dr. Sloth sitting before her, tilting her head upwards and holding her arms towards the sky as if she were possessed by some celestial being.  
  
The clouds in the sky above them suddenly parted, the blue of the day sky fading quickly, as if the hours of the days had been accelerated, bringing it to night. With the clouds out of the way, all of the stars and the moon were apparent, all of their light seeming to collect towards Tahra, streaming into her body. She closed her eyes, as if embracing their energy, and began ascending upwards towards the moon at a rapid pace, disappearing into the night sky among the moon.  
  
She was not gone for long, however. The moon beamed its solemn rays down on Dr. Sloth and Mitsuko. Mitsuko searched for Tahra's body, but found none-instead of a brown-skinned organic faerie descending from the moon, now, she saw something that appeared like some kind of spirit, seeming to come from the very light of the moon. Mitsuko gazed up in wonder, unable to believe its beauty. The figure, shaped like Tahra, the only color besides white on its body its two fiery red eyes, was not heading towards Dr. Sloth and Mitsuko, however. Instead, it floated over the surface of wasted surface of Neopia and the descending castle of the former Faerieland, gazing down upon them almost pityingly.  
  
"Tah?" asked Dr. Sloth, confused as he craned his neck upwards to look at the spirit.  
  
The spirit gave a gentle smile to Dr. Sloth, one that a mother would give to a beloved child. Then, she turned her attention back towards Neopia, holding her wispy hands upwards towards the sky. A bright beam of light formulated between her two delicate hands, seeming to come directly from the moon, so bright that Mitsuko was forced to turn her head away temporarily to avoid from damaging her ocular circuits. The spirit's eyes closed, the red dots disappearing from view. In moments, the collection of light above the spirit's head had increased to an enormous amount, the spirit seeming to be struggling to contain it. Gradually, the spirit brought her arms down, pointing the great ball of light towards the castle, her lips murmuring silent words.  
  
Thousands of individual beams sprouted from the collection of light. It did not come out in straight beams, however-instead, it seemed to grow from the light as if it were ivy growing in fast forward, stretching itself towards the castle. The branches of light caressed the sides of the castle, wrapping tightly up against its walls, plunging their endings into the many cracks within the walls. The branches also reached out to the black liquid surrounding the castle, so many falling into its darkness, seeming, at first, to be consumed by its utter lightlessness.  
  
The castle again began rumbling beneath Dr. Sloth and Mitsuko. But this time it was not descending-no, instead, the castle was lifting into the air, as if being carried by some mystical force, which no doubt was actually happening. The branches of ivy produced from the light lifted the castle upwards from the liquid, the castle giving a loud groan. Those beams which had made their destination to be the liquid began diminishing it, finding their way to the wrecked and ravaged other buildings of the former Faerieland, wrapping their long fingers around them and bringing them up with the castle, the liquid underneath dripping from the sides of the castle and the buildings alike.  
  
As the buildings and the castles ascended into the air, the ivy vines of light seemed to sink deeper into the sides of the buildings and the castles. Slowly, cracks that had formed in the buildings closed up, being healed by the light. The castle itself, however, was slowly being completely reformed, as if it were under a renovation program. The top that had formerly covered the room that Dr. Sloth and Mitsuko currently occupied was not reapplied above the two of them-instead, it merged with the side of the castle, as if it were a bacteria splitting in reverse, reducing the height of the castle, but stretching it wider. This made it look like less of a faerie structure, but still improved nonetheless, all of the cracks and grime that had accumulated on its surface washed off from the light cleansing.  
  
As the buildings ascended higher into the air, among the few puffy clouds that now littered the sky, the buildings seemed to situate themselves into the sky, as if setting up a town from life-size toys. The few clouds that were in the sky seemed to bubble into increasingly larger ones, growing underneath the buildings and supporting them in mid-air. The castle and the buildings, for the first time, high above Neopia, stopped their ascending, propped nicely upon the clouds, holding up their immense weight as if they were not much more than the weight of feathers.  
  
The spirit now hovered above the room that Mitsuko and Dr. Sloth still were in, Dr. Sloth's expression stuck in one of confusion, his eyes squinting, as if trying to decipher if it was truly the late Tahra above him. The spirit, though, was not done with her work-indeed, she had just begun, as there was still a considerable quantity of light still stored in her hands. Giving a wistful look towards Dr. Sloth, she moved away from the castle, over the surface of Neopia's still jaded lands.  
  
Once again, she closed her eyes, holding the light above her chest. A portion of her own body seemed to contribute to the ball of light suddenly, as if being emitted from her chest, her very soul being used in the process of healing the lands around her. Bringing her hands forth from her chest, she brought them downwards, pointing the ball of light towards the ground. Squeezing her eyes shut, as if bracing herself for impact, she released the ball of energy in one thrust downwards, sending it spiraling towards the surface of Neopia.  
  
It seemed, at first, that it would collide horribly with the ground, causing an enormous crater and thus more catastrophe. But no-instead of acting as a solid object, it hit the ground as if it were a drop of liquid, splashing upwards, little droplets sprinkling across the land. And, unlike a drop of water, it began to spread like a dam breaking, the water beneath it gushing out. Also, unlike water, it did not damage everything in its path-no, in fact, it seemed to become transparent, though its influence was still quite visible. Where there had once been desolate deserts and wastelands sprung greenery of all sorts, restoring the surface to its natural state. Thousands of flowers bloomed beneath the reborn Faerieland, and the refertilization only continued to spread throughout the planet at a rapid pace. The ravaged palaces of Sakhmet City grew once again from rubble, the castles of Meridell reconstructing themselves, and the many buildings of Neopian Central finding themselves back in perfect order, as if no invaders, radiation or plagues had even touched the surface of the pure planet. It was a Neopia that Mitsuko was unfamiliar with, besides perhaps the quiet personality in the back of her mind, Rose-but she felt that she could quickly grow accustomed to the change.  
  
Yet even as the wondrous changes occurred before her, Mitsuko could not help but lament over the death of Phil, wishing that somehow, someway, the departed Desert Shoyru that she had so loved could see his world transformed into one of absolute beauty. There was also the far-off sense of being disconnected from the world, as if she were dying, though it was impossible for a robot to die. She struggled to keep her eyes open, looking over to Dr. Sloth and then up to the spirit of Tahra. The spirit seemed to be suffering from a bit of weakness, faltering a bit in the air, but watching in satisfaction as the scene beneath her occurred. As the light finished its travels through the world of Neopia, the spirit turned her attention back to Mitsuko and Dr. Sloth, who still remained in the cramped little room.  
  
Her attention first seemed inclined to go towards Dr. Sloth, but she turned it to Mitsuko, seeming to notice that the robot was fading fast. Her great, white body floated towards Mitsuko, and the robotic Shoyru felt a great sense of peace swim over her consciousness, her eyes closing.  
  
Yet as she closed her eyes, she seemed to awaken to a whole new consciousness. She was no longer confined to the dimensions of the room, nor to the dimensions of time and space that restricted Neopia. She and the spirit seemed to be floating high in the sky, above Neopia yet not in the darkness of space. Mitsuko could look down on her disembodied head and observe it from a third person instead of being trapped within it-the sensation was strange, but welcoming. She was vaguely aware that she was no longer in a robotic body, but she did not take the time to see what form she had assumed-instead, she looked forwards at the spirit intently, somehow knowing that she was about to speak.  
  
"Rose. . .Mitsuko," said the spirit of Tahra calmly, her crimson eyes seeming to be able to see right into her soul. But it was not an uncomfortable sensation-in fact, Mitsuko felt freer with this arrangement.  
  
"Tahra," replied Mitsuko, acknowledging the spirit. The spirit smiled.  
  
"Then you do know that this, in fact is me."  
  
"Yes. But I'm not quite sure why. . ."  
  
"Well, the explanation is a bit of faerie mythology, so I shall describe it to you. There have been many Space Faeries before me- reincarnated into many different forms, in order to save Neopia. We all share a common soul, and thus are all connected-but when I was destroyed and then brought back by science, that pattern was disrupted. My temporary absence allowed for many various invaders who had not been quite so obviously as other offenders in Neopia to descend down upon the planet. Even restored as a machine, however, and banishing the invaders, part of my. . .well, our soul had been obliterated, temporarily lost in the cosmos, allowing for the corruption that comes with being mortal. When I died once again, the remains of our soul was allowed to be recovered, and thus I was able to restore Neopia to its former glory."  
  
"But. . .Dr. Sloth. . .?"  
  
The spirit smiled tenderly. "Though immortal, a soul still cannot avoid love, whether it be from an ally or an enemy." The spirit of the Space Faerie turned away from the subject however, ending it simply with a thoughtful, affectionate smile. "But now, Mitsuko, we have more important matters to discuss-such as what shall happen to you?"  
  
"I don't understand. I am a machine-I do not possess a soul."  
  
"Perhaps not the machine. But, being partly organic, you still manifested a sort of soul, if not a full one-and this allowed you to grow. Besides, how do you define what has a soul or not? Is it something that is sentient? If that is the case, than any robot could possess a soul."  
  
"Then.then what can happen to. . .my. . .soul?"  
  
"You may choose to stay within the boundaries of the robotic body, to be reconstructed, living a long and fruitful life, though filled with hardships as it may be. Or.you may choose to die, not able to live the joys of life, but able to reside within the peace of the afterlife."  
  
Mitsuko did not answer immediately. She hardly noticed that a troubled expression had overcome her face as she delved deep into thought, but either that or the spirit had been able to read her mind, for the Space Faerie's spirit spoke up once again. "I can see that the issue troubles you. In all admission, you do enjoy life, don't you? As any thing with a soul should. Life. . .living. . .it has its pleasantries far greater than that of the afterlife, yet it may leave you miserable as well. It's a double-edged sword.  
  
"On the other hand, you have the afterlife. A place of even feelings, where nothing really changes much. . .constant peace. But can that be truly described as bliss, as everything always remains the same? Is death really the final answer?" Mitsuko considered this for a moment, and then spoke the only thing on her mind that the Space Faerie spirit had not vocalized.  
  
"There is Phil in the afterlife. There is not Phil in life."  
  
The two stood at a standstill for a moment, the spirit looking surprised, almost as if surprised that the Desert Shoyru could possibly mean so much to Mitsuko as to give up the blessing of life.  
  
"Are you sure? I should warn you-such a decision is permanent. There's no such thing as 'coming back from the dead.' Reincarnation, perhaps, but you won't--" Mitsuko cut off the spirit, shaking her head in the middle of her speech.  
  
"I understand. I choose death."  
  
"As you wish."  
  
The spirit held out her hand, and Mitsuko placed hers within the spirit's hand. As she looked at her hand, however, she noticed that it was not robotic, though she knew it would not be-no, it was of a pale blue color, the same color that her face had been. Still a bit astonished, she looked all over herself to find that she was within a blue Shoyru body which was fully organic. The wings were the only difference between her and other Shoyrus-for right before her eyes, the bat wings that had formerly adorned her back were replaced with ones made of ivory-colored feathers, like those of a graceful Pteri falcon.  
  
"Come," whispered the spirit, and began to soar upwards at an alarming rate. Mitsuko, however, found it effortless to follow, as if she had boosters once again and they had been upgraded to those suitable for traveling through space. Higher and higher they flew, Mitsuko seeming to instinctively know the way, not needing a guide. As they climbed, she felt the spirit falling away from her hand, tagging back, finally releasing her hand. Mitsuko did not stop to wait for her.  
  
For above her there was a light, growing larger with each second that she joyously beat her wings, her elegant angel wings. There was a light getting so close that its warmth touched every inch of her body, covering her field of vision. And that warmth felt distinctly of Phil's soft body pressing itself gently against hers, their touch meeting once again. Closing her eyes, Mitsuko allowed herself to be immersed in the soothing light, tears budding at her eyes in pure ecstasy. A smile found its way onto her lips, though she hardly even noticed it.  
  
'I'm coming Phil. I'm coming.'  
  
Epilogue  
  
Krishna was awakened from his sleep on the cold, desert sand from the stumblings and gruntings of someone in the distance. Curling out of the comfortable fetal position which he had established on the ground, he stretched his limbs, feeling much better than he had when he had fallen asleep-for he had fallen asleep outside, the house which he had been staying at reduced to ashes. He had tried to get as far away from the gruesome sight as possible, and had found himself some way deep in the desert, with no desire to turn around, and no desire to uphold what little life he had left.  
  
Yet as he looked forward through the darkness of the night, squinting, he could almost believe that he saw greenery in the distance- honest to goodness trees, things that he had pretty much heard of only in myth. Convinced that it must've been a mirage caused by the rising sun in the distance, he turned his direction to where he had heard the noise coming from.  
  
Again, he found his sight unreliable and rubbed at his eyes. But he found his eyesight to be true-tumbling through the sand in his direction came the form of his father, walking independently. With a cry of half- alarm and half-happiness to see him actually alive, Krishna struggled to his feet and ran through the sand to Dr. Sloth. The doctor, his glasses askew on his face and one of the lenses broken, smiled weakly before falling forwards, as if exhausted. Krishna barely managed to catch him, shifting his weight to his left leg, supporting his father with his right side, wrapping his arm around his shoulder.  
  
"Y-you're alive! I thought. . .I thought. . ."  
  
"Do me a favor right now, boy," groaned Dr. Sloth, holding his side, "and don't think. Just get me home."  
  
Krishna's face fell at this, pursing his lips together sadly. "I'm afraid that's not possible.you see, these fire faeries came, directed by. . .er, Mom. . .and burnt down the house. . .Phil. . .Phil died. . ."  
  
"The house is still there. Trust me," replied Dr. Sloth. "Phil, perhaps not, but the house. . ."  
  
"How's that possible?"  
  
"How are trees possible in a desolate landscape? I don't know," answered Dr. Sloth wearily. "But in any case, order has been restored. . .or as much order as you can give to a sentient species." He rubbed his face with his hand, pulling it away slick with sweat. He wiped the sweat on his pants.  
  
"What happened to. . .Mother?" asked Krishna, still finding the word strange on his lips. Dr. Sloth's face seemed to get very tight for a moment, as if he might break out into tears. He fought down the expression however, clearing his throat multiple times before he spoke in a low voice.  
  
"She's where she should be. . .protecting the planet from very far away." Krishna fell silent after that for a moment, allowing his father to recover from the strain of admitting the fate of his former lover. Krishna felt he could do nothing to comfort him but wait and slowly walk towards the house, waiting for the precise time until he brought up another question that burned in the front of his mind.  
  
"What has come of Mitsuko. . .?"  
  
"I don't know. But I assume that she's somewhere, safe with Phil." Krishna understood immediately what this meant-a grim look overcame his face. Yet he was not overly sad, for he knew that this was probably what Mitsuko had wanted-to see the devastated look on her face at Phil's death had nearly killed him inside. "Look," said Dr. Sloth, interrupting Krishna's train of thought, pointing into the night sky.  
  
Krishna strained his neck upwards, following his father's finger. Among the vast amount of stars, all twinkling beautifully, was a single shooting star, streaking across the sky, and then fading to nothing. Krishna felt his stomach well up, as if it were filled with water, which drifted to his eyes. He didn't know why the meteor made him feel so emotional-perhaps it was the way that the wind was blowing, or that in the distance he could vaguely see his father's house still in perfect order. Or maybe it was because he instinctively knew what the shooting star was, what it represented, and that the little Shoyru robot who had rarely smiled was finally at peace.  
  
In any instance, it was Krishna's turn to cry. Dr. Sloth gave him a queer look, and then brought the half-faerie's head to his shoulder in a grudgingly comforting gesture, as a real father might do. And slowly, stumbling every so often from the inconsistency of the sand, the two walked back to the house. 


End file.
